Daddy Wounds - Part 1

The other day, my aunt and I were catching up on life and she asked how things were going with my dad. I hate these conversations, because explaining the relationship I have with him always feels like I’m talking about a situationship I’m in—confusing as fuck. 

I took a deep breath, already annoyed with this conversation, “I don’t know. I asked him if things could ever go back to the way they were, and he answered, ‘yes, I’ll try my best’, but all he’s done since then is send a text here and there. I feel I'll have to be the one to put in all the effort if I want our relationship to go anywhere.” 

“What do you want from this?” she asked. “Y’all won’t be able to make up for the time missed, so what is it that you want from this relationship? Not the little version of you - you now. Y’all have yet to really talk about things, so he may believe that what he is doing is enough. You don’t have to answer my question right now. Just think about it is all I’m saying.”

I sat there in silence. As much as I didn’t want to think about it, I knew that her prompt was something that I needed to think about and answer to myself. What do I want from this, from him? 

I sat with the prompt for the rest of the day, and slowly but surely, realized that I’ve been battling with two different wants for this relationship—one from my inner child, and the other from the woman I am today. I decided to allow both of them to write a letter as a way of exploring what each of them are looking for.  

A Letter From My Inner Child: 

She doesn’t always like to admit it but, when older me see’s your name pop up on her phone screen, she feels the same excitement that she did when she was a little girl - me. I feel her excitement and take her back down memory lane to the days when you’d call grandma’s house and we’d stay on the phone for hours. Hey, did you know I always protected your name? When people would talk down on you, I always stood up for you, defended you. No one was allowed to talk poorly about you in my presence, but then again, in my determination to protect you, I didn’t realize that they were only trying to protect me from what I was too young to see. The truth is: I cry a lot for you.

Older me doesn’t allow the tears to flow out of her. She gets angry and tries to forget you instead - but me? I cry inside of her all the time, thinking about how you’ve abandoned us and never came back. We needed you, you know? We really did.

I used to brag to my friends in school about skipping classes because you were coming into town to get me. Those were the only days I didn’t mind waking up early. I’d sit in the window and happily wait for your arrival. Then one day, you just stopped coming. You went on and started a new family without us.

Recently, I got to see you with those other kids for the first time. You were so present, playful, and gentle. Why weren’t you like that with me? Older me didn’t cry at that moment. She wore her mask like she always does and smiled politely - but I cried, and I know she heard me. I still long for your attention and care. I still wish you would see me. Do you ever see me? Do you ever want to see me?

“What do I want from him?” Older me asked herself over and over all day today. 

I wonder if she sees me still waiting at the window for you to come back for me…for us. 

A Letter From the Woman I Am Today:

There has never been a happy medium for me. I’m either excited to hear from you or I’m annoyed and trying to forget you. I wish I could say that I remember a lot of happy childhood moments with you, but I don’t. Maybe it’s from all the trauma, maybe it’s from me trying to dead you in my heart. I don’t want to dislike you, but I don’t like people who bullshit me - and that’s what you’re doing. Matter of fact, that’s all you’ve ever done. 

We’ve been tiptoeing around the one conversation we both know needs to be had. Could I initiate it? Sure, but I’m tired of always being the fucking adult for people who were supposed to be adults for me, but instead, failed me miserably and constantly.

For once, can you be man enough to tell me you fucked up? Can you be man enough to tell me why you abandoned me only to go on and start a new family who you show up for?

For once, can you be man enough to look at me, see me, and acknowledge the pain you’ve caused? 

“What do I want from him?” A question I’ve been asking myself all day, and you know what? At this point, I think all I really want is for you to be honest about where you’ve failed me in the past and work with me to build a relationship together from here. I don’t know you. You left little me sitting in front of a window waiting for you to come back, but you never did. Now you’re a stranger to me, and that hurts, dad. Does it not hurt you? 

Here I am, 28 years old, realizing that so much about why I am the way I am today stems from you abandoning me. I’m doing the work though. I’m committed to healing little me who cries for you all time. I want you to be the parent, the adult, I needed when I was kid - but I can’t make you, and I can’t be the one to encourage you. I know better than to wait around for a man to get his shit together - your actions taught me that - so now it’s time for me, and little me, to stop waiting around for you.