I Don't Need a Dad
My brother and I were raised by my mother but my dad was… a known figure in our lives. I wanted to write that he “was present,” but now being a parent struggling to be present I know he didn’t quite make it into that category. I vividly remember his visits: sometimes a drop in to say hello or to review my report card, which I dreaded if my grades fell below an A. “Daddy knows you can do better than that!” He’d say warmly but sternly. After the 100th time the fear of disappointment had set in and to avoid that feeling, by the 2nd grade, I learned how to trigger a teary eye on cue in the event I’d have to put on a theatrical performance. So, instead I got a “daddy is proud of you, I just want you to give your best!” for the remainder of my elementary schooling. Sometimes we’d drive to McDonald’s (Red Lobster as my palate matured) a few Q&As between us but mostly low music filling in the silence which was violently cracked by a shrieking sound my dad called singing followed by my laughter. Other times we’d go visit family and friends, which I didn’t like much because I didn’t want to share what little time I had with my dad but, reluctantly made small chat with people I barely knew, to avoid looking like a brat.
My dad was there. I knew it. But as much as I enjoyed the option of eating WHATEVER I wanted when we were together, the hundred bucks he’d allow me to pluck out his wallet after he’d already given me $40, the roses on my birthday and the goodie filled baskets delivered every Easter, the idea of a dad felt disposable.
“I don’t need a Dad”
My grandmother raised 10 children by herself and my mother raised 2. She seemed strong and independent and she did well to hide her emotional pain because her appearance was nothing short of impeccable.. always! My brother and I were fed, nicely clothed and wanted nothing. Majority of my education was obtained at a private school, we were involved in a church, we were thriving and it was all because of my mom.
She worked full time, raised her kids, took care of herself and dedicated a lot of time to the church.. she was thriving. What more could we need?
I lived in this delusion for the majority of my life leading into young adulthood. Relationships were disposable (mostly to my advantage but more on that later). I found vulnerability as a sign of weakness and my independence as a weapon and a shield protecting me from disappointment that was bound to happen when I relied on anyone other than myself.
As for the relationship with my dad, I always called him when I needed/wanted something and he was always there giving and providing, fulfilling my requests. I’m not sure I could have handled his rejection. Maybe if he ever told me “no,” I’d discover the true fragile emotional state I was in, which I did well in masking with independence to the point I too believed it. There was nothing threatening my fragility, things went in my favor, just as it should, until my husband came along and @#$%*^ it all up!
You see, relationships have an odd way of reflecting your best and your worst attributes. He was surely my “mirror” and in that reflection I found a little girl with daddy issues.
I should have known in the way I questioned the existence of a dad whenever I laid eyes on a child or got instant gratification when I saw a dad with his daughter as if I’d just spotted a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.. I was still hurt. Broken in places I didn't know existed because even at a young age I figured “to need someone” is a sign of weakness. Mama is so strong I have to be too! She trained me to keep pressing, keep pushing and that resilience turned my heart into what I thought was steel but really just a lake that had frozen over.
My favorite rapper made the truest statement in his latest single “Middle Child”: “we raise by our mamas, Lord we gotta heal..”
Not that my mama failed us, as I wouldn't hesitate for one second to speak on behalf of my brother and I, and say she has been and continues to be our hero, but the absence of a dad is a misfortune that has become so normalized that we often overlook it, let alone recognize it as trauma we must heal from.
The effect of the loss or absence of a dad (physically and/or emotionally) can surface in many shapes and forms. In my case, it happened to slowly show up when I truly attempted to love a man and then catapulted when I got pregnant.
Vulnerability petrified me!! All I knew was strength and I’d heard of the brokenness that resulted from my parents splitting up. I vowed to NEVER LET ANYONE PUT ME IN THAT POSITION! And yet here I was: in love and pregnant! Between you and I, if it hadn’t been for our daughter, I would have pushed him away.. it was too hard and before her, giving up just seemed like the right thing to do. When in actuality, it was really just the easier thing to do. Babies don’t fix relationships, but she gave me the courage to fix me and as a result my relationship benefited. If I got into the details of it all you’d be reading for a while and I’m gracious for the time you’ve already invested so, I will discuss more on my journey to wholeness in another post, but I will say this:
I needed a Father to be my shield, so that I’d know when it was okay to put my sword down.
Fathers you are loved!
Fathers you are important!
Fathers you are NEEDED!!
