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Sweet and sassy. True and raw. This is the place I empty my head and open my heart.

Friday, November 2, 2012

Daddy's Girl

My father has been dead for 8 years, 9 months, and 22 days.
Not that I am keeping track.
I lost and grieved my father twice in my life- the first time when I was 14. There was a six year period where he cut off all contact with me and my brother. He and I came close to discussing that hurtful hiatus shortly before he died, but never to the degree I wanted. Or that I needed.  I have theories and I speculate as to why he did that, but he took the truth to the grave. I lost him permantley when I was 25. He died suddenly, in the middle of the night. His heart exploded and he died on the hardwood floor of the living room, in the home he shared with his other family. It is a strange feeling  to mourn the loss of a father more than once in a lifetime. Another layer of numbness added to the the other.

To say my relationship with my father was complicated, is an understatement. The importance of that connection, has always been known as significant and far-reaching to me. My hard-wiring has been greatly compromised because of the lack of connection, affection, acceptance, support and solidarity from my dad. That translates into some fundamental aspects of my life, as an adult woman. This is not news to me- rather it is a new perspective that has been born, in the midst of my awakening. My brain knows the facts, and my heart feels the wounds inflicted from the man who gave me half of my DNA. Lately, it has led me to connect the dysfunctional relationship to a traumatic event, from over a decade ago. The resurfacing has led me to face and work through some extremely heavy issues. The two things- my relationship with my  dad and the past trauma,  are indirectly related. I wonder, if Dad had been more present, more whole, more emotionally present and authentic- would I have made different choices in my life? It is indubitable  that I would have. Traumatic events in my life could have been prevented if only my relationship with my father was more instead of less.



"When you are frozen relationally, it is difficult to know your place and how to develop a healthy relationship because you are working from a place of need instead of working out of a position of co-equal." ~Dr. Ken Canfield

The influence Dad had on me, was a direct result of his own parent's relationship with him. And that was seriously fucked up. That whole side of the family was pretty messed up. I am talking generations of dysfucntion, cycling through in secret. Thankfully, my brother Derrick and I did not experience much of what others in my family have. We were deeply affected, nonetheless. Paradigms are shifting, and patterns are being broken. Middle fingers are being extended to those who made victims of their kin.

image via listverse.com

Having long envied father/daughter relationships that were healthy, it makes me glad I haven't yet procreated.  As a walking wounded daughter, I only know how to choose the wounded. Out of fear of repeating history, subconsciously I have been smart enough not to have created any descendants of my own. There is the sense that my biology has been a helping hand in the prevention of the familial dysfunction.  The brain and the heart have been working together all this time, in an effort to not be fucked over by the generational paradigm that ruled my father's family. Yes, it is not a stretch to lay partial, if not all blame for my  relational issues and resulting singledom on Dad. Thanks for that, by the way.


"I could not have parted with you, my Lizzie, for anyone less worthy.” ~Mr. Bennet, Pride and Prejudice


 All of this introspection, prompts me to consider parenting as a whole,  from an emotionally aware place. If I am meant to have kids,  I want my own future daughter to not only be the apple of her father's eye- but to know that as a fact she never has to question. All because  her mommy was determined to heal herself and create only from a place of wholeness in her heart.









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