It is said a little girl loves and idolizes her father as he is the first man she knows, respect and loves. Psychology says and proves a father paves the way in nurturing, loving, instructing, guiding and influencing their daughters… Well my dad did all the above just Not in the conventional way it was intended, there is so much to be said about this man I called daddy, like the fact he never wanted me!!!
My father had and still has no idea the pain, the torment and trauma I suffered at his hands (well mouth) for although he NEVER inappropriately touched me, the names he called me over the years (bitch, slut, whore) the words cut deeply…With each utterance of one of those derogatory words from my dad, I felt the harshness and cruelty one would feel when slapped hard across the face or salt being thrown on a freshly scare wound. My heart bled, my heart broke and something ripped on my insides each time he called me stupid! He would frequently say “You’re the eldest yet the dumbest of my children”, he’d say even my baby brother had more smarts; he was more intelligent than I was. I know he knew that he was WRONG…I am a very intelligent woman!!
I questioned myself over the years because whenever he uttered such words, it felt he possessed some unique super human ability to look within and see my inner anguish. I often questioned if, somehow my dad knew I was sexually active even though I was being violated and tormented without my consent. Could this be why he called me names? Did I in some way want these men to violate me? Did I lead them on, did I enjoy it? Did I display certain behaviors that warranted them do this to me? Today I know the answer to those question is a resounding NO! Nothing that an underage child does should lead grown men to have sex with them!!!
From a very early age I realized I was anything but the apple of my father’s eye, in fact I was like a thorn in his side. My dad wanted boys the more boys he had the better it would have been for him but God threw a monkey wrench in his plans. My father never wanted me because I am a girl. He is the definition of a true narcissist! I love my father and for years I fought to gain his love and affection, but I could never measure up to his standards…well what standard? It is my dad’s belief that a woman’s role was to lay on their backs and earn their keep.
The lessons he taught some good and some bad! The lessons were many, and boy do I have stories to tell! One of the lessons that resonated the most is one he unknowingly taught me, he taught me how to be independent, relying on no one for anything! Independent I became! My dad taught me independence in two ways…
1. Observing the relationship between him and my mom, the system between my dad and my mom was orchestrated so that my mother had to ask his permission before she spent “HIS” money.
2. At the age of seven I recall an incident where I had asked my mom for school supplies and she told me to ask my dad for the money, upon asking my father, he looked me directly in the eyes and said “I am not too particular to give you anything, because you a go breed by 11”. At seven years old, within that second, that minute, that hour, that day, as the seconds ticked away, I made a conscious decision never to ask my dad or any other man for that matter for money! It’s a rule I live by to this present day. Needless to say, this rule has caused issues in relationships. My father made his belief and his feelings for women known, he didn’t down play it, or sugar coat it, “A woman’s rightful place is in the home. All women are good for is to cook, clean, service men and breed (have children).” This is why still to this day he has no idea his girls where sexually abused! Isn’t life a bitch?! While I have mixed emotions about my mother’s choice in not telling him, knowing his temperament and the fear is that he would do to us what he did to her…eventually using his knowledge of the sexual abuse against her.
For years I lived with conflicted emotions on one hand I couldn’t allow myself to be the woman my father envisioned and expected me to become and on the other hand, I was that woman, because for years while I was being sexually abused and years after the abuse I believed deep down that I was the woman my dad had predicted I would be, that all I was, was an object of pleasure and desire for men and boys. This constant battle added to the emotional and psychological trauma I lived through as a result of the different types of abuse and my life with Sickle Cell Anemia.
I succumbed to my greatest fear (I’m the worthless woman dad said I would be), I was tormented mentally and emotionally because I refused to have a relationship of a sexual nature with anyone for fear of being what my dad deemed me to be, yet here I was being sexually violated over and over and over again by a man and his son who should have been looking out for me, protecting and teaching me …It’s as if I couldn’t escape the wretched clasps of narcissistic men! With each violation, my thoughts were how badly I wanted to save myself for the one I loved, I wanted the option to give myself to whomever I pleased or desired, I too wanted the option of making the poor decisions of finding my FIRST true love and losing my innocence to him. I didn’t want it to be ripped from my grasp by family members!!!
My dad had his moments when he was kind, he had somewhat of a giving heart, which was seldom displayed. My dad’s good qualities were overpowered, overshadowed and tainted with sheer ugliness! He gave expecting something in return, he loved demanding to be loved, he claimed he cared however if at any time something didn’t go his way, he would have a hissy fit like that of my two year old son! The world was out to get him, God was testing him, and people entered his life to use him. He often compared himself to Job of the bible…He could not see past himself! I often heard friends, associates and strangers alike long for their fathers, some wishing they had a father like mine, to that I would and still smile awkwardly because if only they knew! I believe, some are much better off without their dads. I feel that God was shielding and protecting them from years of mental torment! It hurts me, for no matter how I tried to please my dad, I was never good enough, I couldn’t do enough and more was always expected. I realize no matter how I tried I was never and would never be daddy’s little girl!
For years I made excuses for my parents, in my quest to understand, explain and rationalize their behaviors. While I now realize and accept that they are human, I often wondered about their mental state. How and what did they think about? Are they aware of their actions and behaviors, the implications? If brought to their attention would an attempt be made to reverse, repair or change?
I hated my dad at times, I experienced moments of extreme and intense hatred! I would sit and will myself to remain angry at him, (I couldn’t pull it off) the abusive nature of this man, the things he would do to my family, to my siblings in the name of discipline. My dad was physical (though seldom), verbally, and emotionally abusive. Verbally relentless, emotionally draining and mentally it was never ending. He threw one of my brothers down a flight of stairs, physically pulling him back up only to throw him back down, beatings were with whatever was in his reach. I despised him for hitting my siblings; I would go into protective mood time and time again for my mom, my siblings, myself. All this would take place at home yet WE would walk out the door as a family pretending all was well with the world.
As I write my blogs and work on my book I realize these are the very reasons it took me this long to get these things out… Because they hurt, I have never sat down and really allowed myself to process or feel the various emotion because I always had to be in action mode, and, it was safer not speaking about it all. My dad made sacrifices for us, and he showed in many ways that he loved us, though tainted at times… (Whether out of obligation or duty) but he never had the rationale to see or understand the negative impact his actions had on his family. It was these actions that warranted his dismissal from our family home. I didn’t know what I was doing or how we would have survived, but I knew I had to protect my brothers from the negative teaching my dad was providing to them about women. “Women are walking dead; no woman is to be trusted especially the pretty ones.” Even with a wife and two daughters he felt the need to constantly bash women. My dad’s issues which I now know are his issues impacted me in a very negative way but…
” I am not that wimp of a child anymore and I refuse to carry the shackles of my parents, forefathers and relatives sins, their past experiences has influenced me enough I’m breaking free, no more chains holding me, its heavy… I want my freedom thus I’m taking my freedom, forgetting others expectations of me…I am being that which God wants, needs and intends for me to be…Join me as I/we journey to free.
From my heart to yours