I wish my father would have been more of a father to my sisters and I. He was never consistently present in our lives. When I was a teenager he married and became a father to two stepsons, and had two more children (sons).
I always knew where he was. I always knew how to find him. My paternal grandmother has lived in the same place for years. My mother actually worked in a school directly across the street from her. His family wasn’t interested in getting to know us, and he never really attempted to bridge the gap.
I recently had a guy I dated years ago tell me that every woman he had ever dated had a daddy issue, and that I was no exception. He went on to explain that because my father wasn’t an ever-present force in my life, I was jaded in my dealings with men. He tried to soften the blow by saying that I didn’t let men take advantage of me, but I also didn’t let them get close to me. He also said that I “dated like a man”, meaning that I was never passive or pressed when it came to men and dating. Initially, I was upset, but I have been taking the time to evaluate my feedback from others.
Maybe I did have some daddy issues. That man disappointed me so much in my life that eventually I learned not to ever fully trust a man. I wasn’t cold and bitter about it, but I was very cautious. The early part of my twenties was spent dating frequently and not getting close. When I finally fell in love, I still held back. My reluctance to completely give myself played a role in the undoing of my relationship. I spent so much time trying to appear unaffected, that I didn't focus enough on what I had and the potential it had.
As I approach my thirties, I am looking back at every single year of my life since I turned 18. By the time my mother was 18, she had two children. By the time she turned 24, she had five. I think about myself from the ages of 18-24 and I know that I couldn’t have been anyone’s mother. I knew that back then as well, and made sure I didn’t put myself in that predicament.
My parents weren’t ready to be parents. I’m totally ok with the fact that I was not planned. Most of us weren’t. If I had a child at 19 years old, I probably would be just as lost and clueless as he was. The difference between my father and my mother is that when he made the choice to walk away, my mother made the choice to grow up, and raise her children. She openly admits that she has made poor decisions, but she also takes accountability for those actions.
My father had an absent father, and instead of learning what not to do with his own children, he continued the cycle. That will NOT be me. That will NOT be the father of my children.
I’m not mad at my dad. I love him because he gave me life. I love him because I have many of his good traits. He's artistic,loves music, and as an appreciation for all types of literature. He was a Buddhist for more of my life, and that expanded my worldview on religion and tolerance. At the end of the day I realize that he’s human. I realize that he just doesn’t know how to be a father, even after all these years. We talk from time to time, mostly via text message, but I don’t feel the need to try to build.
My heart still aches when I see Russell Simmons meditating with his daughters, or a father holding his daughter’s hand while crossing the street. Instead crying and feeling sorry for myself, now I smile. One day that will be my daughter, and her father, my husband.
Peace y’all.
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