My dad is alive, we have had a long history of ups, downs and periods of talking, not talking and forgiveness. Currently, we aren’t speaking and this time it is intentional and I don’t know if I’ll engage him to speak at all. What’s all this about? We only get one dad, and mom, so we should cherish our time with them, right? I would say it depends on the relationship you have with your parents. My first understanding of disappointment was my dad saying he was coming to take me somewhere, and stranding me. He never apologized. Year after year he would skip calling me for my birthday, skip all the holiday calls, and simply not showing up and therefore I never looked for him to do so after a while. My mom would love to remind me that he didn’t care about me in moments when she was blasting me for whatever thing she found wrong at that time and I couldn’t have felt more isolated. I learned from dad never to trust anyone’s word, and that disappointment was inevitable because I wasn’t worth the effort. Awesome.
My sisters and I talk about our different relationships with our dad, and we have all just kinda settled on letting our relationship with him morph into whatever it’s going to be. However, I’m very much hyper-award of my own feelings because my daughter is acutely experiencing a similar feeling with her father. He hardly calls, he doesn’t show up when he said he would, misses her birthday and holidays and is absent. She recently had a heart-wrenching series of questions about her father’s love for her, was he mad at her and what did she do to make him stay away? My heart broke for her because I empathize so acutely with what she’s dealing with, but I’m so proud that she is articulating her pain and while she said she thought I would be upset that she missed him, I reassured her that I could never be mad at her missing her father. The difference between my mother and me is the hard conversation I was willing to have and the room I am willing to give to my child despite my feelings about her dad. She needed me to hear her, and I will continue to hear and offer her compassion because his absence means I have to step up and back her up no matter what.
It’s hard for me not to feel lonely in this world sometimes, actually, it’s a constant struggle to remember that I am not, and I have to count my everyday blessings. However, it’s tough and also beautiful to see fathers who still give their grown daughters Valentine’s Day cards, or the dads who picked their daughters up no matter how late or how far away they had to drive, or the dads who were there to offer sage advice about men, dating, romance and what to accept in this life. My daughter will have that with her grandfather, her uncles, her godfathers, and the strong village of people who surround her now. I didn’t have any of that. I didn’t have any males who I could call if someone had harmed me, there was no dad to advocate for me when my mother didn’t have the time, I didn’t have a father to wait up for me, or to pick me up or show up to my track meets or poetry readings. I had such little faith in my father, that I didn’t even bother to have a wedding because I didn’t want to face the disappointment of him not walking me down the aisle. It’s a very lonely feeling.
The everyday effects on me are subtle but significant. I’ve never fully learned to trust and believe what anyone says they will do until they have proven they can show up consistently. I still have trouble sorting out my willingness to dig deep with men because the example of a positive, caring and faithful man evaded me and I don’t know how not expect the worst. I guard myself with sky-high walls, and it’s not because I don’t have massive amounts of love to share, but I just don’t know if my love, me, my being could be loved with the same intensity. Being a fatherless girl fucks you up because you search for that connection, that deep desire to connect with someone who loves you unconditionally and while some women are able to find husbands who make up for everything that was missing, a lot of us do not find what we seek. You can have self-love all day, but there’s nothing that prepares you for a parent who doesn’t want you. It’s a trauma that stains your life and never goes away.
3 thoughts on “The Struggles of A Fatherless Girl”
I’m so sorry girl. I’m sorry for your daughter as well. That is definitely something that sticks with you forever – and it’s just not fair to shoulder the blame of something that isn’t your fault.
When I sat with my father in Hospice care a few years ago, all of his long-time friends would stop by to see him, and when they asked who I was – they were genuinely shocked when I told them I was his oldest daughter. He never told anyone about me. They all knew who my younger half-sister was. Never me, though. And man, that shit hurt something terrible. Especially since I was, and continue to, take care of his mother. And when he died, you know who wasn’t there? His youngest daughter that everyone knew about. She was too busy with prior plans to bother spending time by his side as he lay there dying. And I cried, and cried, and stroked his forehead after he passed. I was so upset and angry at the time stolen away from us. No memories to reflect back on. Nothing.
I say that to also say – no matter what our fathers have done to us – we still love them, and we always will. Maybe it’s that need of acceptance from them that drives us, or maybe it’s just the kind of people that we are.
I pray that your daughter find strength from you to get through the emotional abandonment set forth by her father. It isn’t fair, and she shouldn’t have to go through that. But, you can’t make people be in your life. And in the end, that man is missing out on some incredible things. Just as your father did, and just as mine did.
I knew I loved you girl. I always look forward to tour words but this hit hard. You are strong for going through your own struggles and still being so fierce and beautiful.