Some people think that my hurt is very limited to my past relationship with my ex of 5 years (I talked about this a few times. . .*yawns*). Well, I’ll tell you why that thought is absolutely false.
About 4 years ago when I was a sophomore in high school, I received a phone call from a strange number. At the time I didn’t see my phone ringing because we couldn’t have our phones out in class. I remember it like it was yesterday because I was sitting in the Biology classroom of a teacher I absolutely could not stand! Anyway. . .when the bell rang, I looked at my phone and saw the missed call followed by a text from the strange number notifying that it was my dad calling from his new number.
It was rather unusual (not my dad getting a new number, but him randomly calling me). I immediately tried to call back, but he didn’t answer. I didn’t press the issue, I went ahead and got on the bus and went home.
Now at this time, I lived with my grandmother (on my mom’s side) because the schools were better where she lived. So, as I walked up the driveway to my grandmother’s house, I saw my mother and sister parked in the yard talking to my grandmother. It was extremely odd because my mother never came to pick me up from my grandmother’s house. My grandmother always dropped me off at my mom’s place on Fridays, and my mother always dropped me back at my grandmother’s house on Sundays.
I feel like I’m dragging it . . .
Well anyway, on this particular day I went inside to pack a bag while my mom stood outside talking to my grandmother. When I went to put my things in the car, my mother pulled me to the side and told me that my father had been arrested.
. . . MY DAD IS NO STRANGER TO THE STREET LIFE. IT WASN’T HIS FIRST ARREST. BUT I KNEW THIS TIME THE CHARGES WERE A LOT MORE SERIOUS THAN BEFORE BECAUSE MY MOTHER DISLIKES MY FATHER BUT I COULD SEE THE HURT IN HER EYES. . .NOT FOR HIM , BUT FOR ME .
I told this story first because it allowed me to realize just how much damage time away from my dad really did to me. Although I spent some days at my dad’s house, he was barely ever there because, again, he was no stranger to the street life. But, I appreciated all the small moments. & Somehow all the moments of not having him around made me a weaker person in certain aspects.
So yeah, while my rocky past with my ex was a huge topic of conversation for a few of my posts. . . it tormented my soul because I know that my track record with failures at love are partially a result of having “daddy issues”.
I’m trying to dig deep. I’m trying to do more than just give you guys what you want. I’m trying to HEAL!
Last month, I had somewhat of a disagreement with my dad. . . (in my head I won’t say father because their is so much that he missed that I just can’t call him that)
I can’t begin to remember how the conversation even started, I just remember him saying something along the lines of “I knew that this day would come, I just didn’t think it would be this soon. When you were younger, I missed out on a lot of things that I didn’t miss with your younger siblings because me and your mom had a mishap. At the time, WE weren’t sure if you were mine, so I wasn’t there. . .” yadda yadda.
The big damn problem here is not that he denied me at birth because this was already a well-known fact. My mother sat me down and talked about it years ago. However, the major issue is that there was another man involved (whom I will always love dearly) and at the time he didn’t know if I was his kid but he STILL TOOK CARE OF ME because the possibility still stood. It baffled me as to how a GROWN ASS MAN could sit on the phone and tell his child that he was absent from her life because there was a POSSIBILITY that I wasn’t his.
I can either be a glass half empty kind of girl or a glass half full kind of woman. When it comes to parental guidelines I am a glass half full kind of WOMAN. Which means…there was a 50/50 chance of me being his child. He ran with one 50, and the other he basically told my mom to shove it up her ass. In those moments, men are so stuck on the woman in front of them that’s saying she’s pregnant. . . they are back tracking to all the arguments. to all the pettiness. to all the hoes. . . forgetting that no matter what a human being who has never experienced life before is developing inside of a womb and needs two PARENTS because it takes a fucking village *excuse my french*.
I’m reliving so many moments that I will be here all day.
At times, my past relationships remind of the instability that my father created in my life. Often times I think of how him being present and maybe telling me “you’re beautiful; don’t ever let anyone tell you different” would have helped my self esteem. When I got involved in my first serious relationship, I didn’t have a secure self esteem. Truth is, I was ashamed of how I looked for years and some days I still am. It’s a result of being bullied in school and just the presence of instability. Between my mother moving me everywhere across the state of South Carolina and my father coming and going as he pleased in my life, I just never was able to make friends. . .I was always the new kid who either got looked over or picked on. It became a solid excuse for me not being able to stand up for myself.
I’m the woman who looks over my shoulder when I leave a room because I feel like I may be the new topic of negative conversation. I’m the woman who gave everyone a chance to walk all over her because I never had stable relationships with people, so I basically did everything to build and keep relationships with anyone I deemed cool. See, even when I was a pre-teen. . .my older sister would always choose her friends over me, and it made me feel useless in a sense. I just felt like I had not a single dose of consistent love coming in.
My mom worked her ass off to keep a roof over our head & when things were good, she bought us nice things. My dad traded his time for money, so of course I had a greater connection with his money than I had with him. My sister chose everyone but me, so we weren’t the closest. . . So, outside of my amazing grandparents. . . (I freaking adore my grandpa) I found love in all of the wrong places.
But dammit I grew tired. I got tired of fake friends. I got tired of part-time parents. I got tired of non-nurturing relationships. I got tired of damn near everyone but myself. I learned to work hard and enjoy my own company all in the same breath.
I guess what I’m saying here is the absence of a father can leave a bitter taste in the mouth of a young woman. In some people’s minds, it should teach you what kind of men (or women) not to go after. But realistically, every young woman is going to miss the mark a time or two (hell, some of us 3 or 4…idk) before we come to the conclusion that our absent or absent-minded father is the ideal example of everything we shouldn’t be looking for. I hope this helped someone somehow even though it was just a rant.
*Disclaimer: My dad was sentenced to 25 years in prison.