Tag Archive | Daddy Issues

I Can’t Drink You Away….

This blog MIGHT be all over the place (kinda like my emotions right now) but I promise there is a central theme.

*******Avengers: Infinity War Spoilers********

We all said, nothing can ever be better than Black Panther. I THINK we were wrong. This movie is just….. So first off, FUCK THANOS. His entire existence just ruined my life. For a myriad of reasons. The last 20 mins of that movie are 1000000000 times worse than the Red Wedding episode of GOT.

But what has me awake at 4:30am like I don’t have shit to do in 3 hours, is the relationship between Thanos & Gamora.

He stole her, after he destroyed half of her planet’s inhabitants. He killed her mother, and told her it had to happen that way. He then trained her to be a deadly assassin who traveled the world killing for him. Because he’s an ASSHOLE.

Even though Gamora swore she hated him, when she *thought* she had actually killed him it tore her apart. Like broke her all the way down. Because even after all the abuse, and hate, and self-loathing, that was her FATHER. Every girl just wants a Daddy.

My life is in chaos right now. I reached out to my father, who has more than enough money to help me deal with this situation. It’s an unexpected life altering event, right as I took 2 months (unpaid) FMLA off to help my mom.

I knew he was going to say no. I knew it in my soul. I told my mom he was going to say no. He did. I wasn’t even shocked. I had already been working on another solution to the problem. He has never helped me out in a crisis. He has actually caused the last 2. And yet…..I asked. At 36, I still held an impossibly small piece of hope he would come through for me.

Because that’s what parents are supposed to fucking do – Help their children in times of need. That’s what our relationship was until I was around 12. The spoiled girl who was pampered and NEVER told no until she started gaining weight……she didn’t understand why the relationship just changed. It went from fun to weight control and walking 4 miles a day in the Arizona heat. I didn’t handle the transition well, because I wasn’t prepared for it.

My Hero. That’s who and what I used to think my father was. You couldn’t tell me shit bad about him. And due to his “strict religious and moral beliefs,” he would of course never lie to me or hurt me. Because that’s what the Bible says. But not the Good Reverend. That nigga worked 50 years to push his kids out the house at 18, and tell them to fend for themselves. Because that’s HIS moral obligation. Now, where this supposed code came from, I don’t know.

It took me way too long to understand this code of ethics even existed. [Partially due to my mother’s parenting style, because she’s the best mom ever] I was used to having a need, telling my primary parent at the moment, and getting what I needed. Some people called it spoiled…not sure why. Some part of me still felt, even after all the times he had disappointed me – if I can just explain why it’s so urgent that I need his help, he won’t say no then. I keep banging my head up against this emotional wall.

Always leaving a door open, or a window slightly cracked hoping he will be different this time. Because I never felt more loved and appreciated than when I used to go visit my father in Tucson and Pittsburgh. I still crave that….feeling. I write about wanting that all the time. Thanks to therapy, I know the root of that. But this blog isn’t REALLY about my daddy issues.

I know, insanity. The kid inside of me always feels so less than when dealing with him, because I’m still trying to get him to:

  • Acknowledge that parenthood doesn’t end when your children reach 18.

Back briefly to Avengers.

In order for Thanos to reach one of his final goals, he LITERALLY threw Gamora over a cliff, and killed her. I started crying right then. Because GOTDAMN! Gamora’s face as she was falling, throwing out her hands and hoping by some miracle he would save her in the last minutes…….

It was like seeing myself on screen. (This conclusion is why I’m still awake right now) Every time I call my father specifically for his help, I’m hanging off the cliff holding on for dear life. He reaches down, and lifts each finger off, while telling me something about budgeting for unexpected events.

That’s how I see my dad. I paid the mortgage on a house that was in his name for 4 years, for him to tell me if I didn’t let my DEADBEAT ASS SISTER move in (and pay no rent or contribute to the household….did I mention shes is 22 years older than me) he would sell the house, and I would be homeless. This was of course about a WEEK after I had a Grand Mal Seizure at the gym and dislocated my shoulder. And my mom was already staying there to help me recover FROM A FUCKING SEIZURE.

Did Thanos love Gamora, yes? But he – and by extension his agenda – was still more important to himself than his child. I just don’t understand how that is. I try really hard to look at everything from both sides. But my dad….

Seriously tho, Fuck that Nigga Thanos.

I just…. I can’t wait for the day when I can not have “daddy issues” flare ups. This shit is worse than herpes. I might be done tho…because exhausted. Also, I might have already said too much. I had to edit like 4 times before I could post this. Because feelings.

Fuck Thanos So Much

These are my Confessions…. Part I

The last 6 months…..So much. But that blog will be written another day. It’s important to acknowledge that as a result of the last 6 months, I’m now in Therapy. Like legit therapy. Like charges $150 a session and ObamaCare only gives me an $80 a session discount type therapy. Shits real in These Here Streets. 

It’s important to know I’m in therapy not to…ask for sympathy but to instead explain my need to write this blog tonight. Part of my sessions have been about me NOT letting people know:

  1. What’s going on in my life…
  2. How I feel about the things that are going on in my life…
  3. How the things in my life have and are currently affecting me. 

So this is my way of expressing my…stuff right now.  This isn’t going to be a weekly blog or a daily blog or anything like that. But it will serve as my releasing of certain emotional/mental/spiritual”Bricks”that have been holding me down for quite some time. 

1) My main motivator in life, other than a need to just be awesome, is male approval. 

Let’s call it “Daddy Issues+.” I’ve known this since I was about 14, and I’ve been ashamed of it since then. Today, I decided to embrace it. Here’s why: 

  • As long as I’m making choices/decision that will positively affect my life, who cares what my motivation is?!?!
  • Feelings are not facts. Just because I’m judging myself for it, doesn’t mean the world is.

Today I went on an accidental 1.5 mile hike.  I say accidental because the original intention was just to walk to the end of my street. I didn’t know that was .7 miles UPHILL. My thighs are KILLING me.  I went on this walk, because someone male commented on the firmness of my calves. I mentioned the fact that I live in a house now with stairs, and I walk a lot more. “It looks good on you ūüėČ” = Male Approval —-> Me talking a long ass walk, around my block, before dark. 

Does walking make my life better, yes. Will it help with this depression that’s always lurking, yes. Do I need to exercise more consistently, yes. So even tho I was motivated by the thought, “Wait until the next time he sees me!” I did something I need to do and is a good choice. 

So I’m releasing that shame today. Sending it out into the cosmos, never to rest or reside in me again. And I’m proud of myself for being able to do that. 

Moment of Clarity or The Man of My Dreams . . .

When I was younger, my mother would say I had ‘Second Sight’ because I would make statements, say the most ridiculous things about people, and they would be (or come) true. I knew what I knew because I would dream it. ¬†It wasn’t always clear to me what it meant, but I would always share it with my mom. ¬†I was the Fish Dream QUEEN until I hit puberty. ¬†About then, my dreams started to be less detailed and more like everyone else‚Äôs.

Honestly, the ability to see other people’s lives in my dreams used to scare me. ¬†I never told anyone but my mom about it, because I thought it made me just a little too different. ¬†On occasion, I would have a dream that was warning me of something or someone and I would trust it. ¬†The only by-product of this pre-pubescent skill seemed to be the ability to pick lottery numbers for one of my mother’s friends. ¬†Any time he would ask, I would give him winning numbers. ¬†Sadly, we didn’t get money, but I did get pretty dresses.

Because I still remember what my dreams used to tell me, I believe and trust them. ¬†They help explain (frequently to myself) the rationale behind something which has already happened in my life. ¬†Nonetheless, I ALWAYS I know I am dreaming. ¬†I have a Moment of Clarity (usually at the beginning of the dream) in which I state, “This isn’t real.” It helps me process what I’m experiencing during the dream, as well as after.

This morning, I dreamt ¬†about The One that Got Away. *He will always be known as that, I think we would have been an amazing couple.¬† If only I hadn‚Äôt been so shy when I was younger.* I had gone to Dayton to visit some friends, and we happened to be in the same place. ¬†We saw each other from afar and made eye contact. ¬†In my mind, he should have immediately come and spoken to me. ¬†For some reason, he chose not to. ¬†I was PISSED. ¬†I said in front of everyone in the restaurant, “I’m standing here trying to figure out why *********** hasn’t walked over here and spoken to me.” I then walked away, grabbed a straightening comb and went to find a plug.

He quickly followed me out of the room, and the restaurant morphed into my father’s house.¬† I walked into my childhood bedroom and he joined me. ¬†I lay down on the bed, and he sat beside me. ¬†We started conversing about everything I‚Äôve gone through in the last 2 years and after telling him about it, ¬†I experienced such a feeling of peace.

The kind of peace you only experience post-Church Service that was speaking to your soul. We just laid there, I put my head on his chest and slept. Before I fell asleep, he said, “I’ll be here when you wake up.” ¬†When my alarm went off, he wasn’t there.¬† ¬†I cried, HARD. He had broken his promise to me.

I really had to tell myself, MJ it was a dream. After thinking about this dream all day, and talking to TOTGA, I finally interpreted¬† the dream.¬† It wasn‚Äôt so much about him, but men in my life. It must be stated, I’m an open book. ¬†I don‚Äôt hide anything from people I meet, especially if I plan on being emotionally intimate with them. ¬†With the exception of 1 person, they have all broken their promises (or gone against their word). Be it, ‚ÄúNo one will know,‚ÄĚ or ‚ÄúI‚Äôll never judge you,‚ÄĚ or ‚ÄúOur friendship will always be important to me,‚ÄĚ they have all been proven false.

I hold people to incredibly high standards.  That’s how I was raised by both of my parents, and it’s something I apply to my everyday life.  (That’s a whole other blog though)

In the case of my Father, he has broken so many promises to me in my lifetime (in my opinion) trusting him isn‚Äôt really an option at this point.¬† As a grown woman, I shouldn‚Äôt‚Äô need to rely on his promises, right? ¬†I should be looking at my ‚ÄėMate‚Äô for that kind of security.¬† The problem is, every man I have ever been involved with romantically has been some version of my father in some way.¬† This shouldn‚Äôt have come as such a surprise to me, as I‚Äôve spoken about my Daddy Issues at length in other postings.

In my experience, Moments of Clarity are the by-product of a subconscious accepting of something you have been struggling to comprehend/understand/deal with.  When it clicks in your soul, you can finally face it in your mind. I’m there now.

I can finally admit there was nothing I could have done to change how my relationship with MM ended.  There were too many reasons it wasn’t working, and only a few reasons it was.  I can admit I failed.  I made a promise I wasn’t able to keep, and THAT’S what hurt the most.  I am and have been living with the guilt that I am Just Like My Father.  Talk about MindFuck.  Yeah, all that.

This Moment of Clarity comes at a hard time for me personally.¬† I‚Äôve lost 2 friends this year, mostly due to my own inability to deal with the loss of MM.¬† I don‚Äôt blame people for writing me off.¬† I can only hope they eventually understand¬† my side of it, and we are able to move past everything. When TOTGA asked me about my life, I told him it was ‚ÄėManageable.‚Äô His advice: Work on your management skills, it‚Äôs bound to get better.

 Thank God for Granting Me, this Moment of Clarity.

I’m glad it was delivered by the Man of My Dreams.

CSBF Vol 18: I am a Submissive Woman…. Judge If You Must {Part 1}

*Let me just say, these are MY thoughts, and opinions. If you are a regular reader of my blog, you already know how messed up I am as a person. So you should be fine with what I say next. Those of you who have never been here, continue reading at your own risk*

In a recent CSBF I spoke about being tired of playing the role of a Strong, Black, Independent Woman. This was really a prequel to the admission I am in fact, submissive by nature.¬†It wasn’t until I wrote that blog, then had a conversation with MM, that I finally said out loud what I had been afraid to say for years;¬†having the upper hand in a relationship doesn’t appeal to me. ¬†There have been so many men that would have let me have my way, and do whatever I wanted, and they just didn’t appeal to me.

Clearly, this goes against most things I have said in this blog almost from the beginning. But as I have gotten older & dealt with various kinds of men, I noticed a pattern.  They were all very dominant men. They had take charge personalities, and were constantly frustrated when I tried to tell them what to do.  Be it how to program their phone, or which way to take to our destination, they would just be angry.  My compulsion to explain to them how I would handle various scenarios, and my want to make sure they understood MY point of view, was a persistent source of contention.

A part of me, blames my willingness to submit on my daddy issues. I’m almost 30 years old, and I am still looking for someone to tell me what to do. I have no scientific proof, or psychological evidence to support this theory of mine, but it makes sense to me.

submissive (adjective) {from Dictionary.com}

1. inclined or ready to submit;  unresistingly or humbly obedient
2. marked by or indicating submission: a submissive reply.

Now, my definition of submission (in terms of a relationship) might be different from yours, so let me try to explain it.  To me, being submissive in a relationship is not about being the lesser of the two.  But instead, humbling yourself enough to allow another person to take charge.  This means, that in a stable/healthy relationship, the submissive person is able to voice their opinion, share their thoughts, and even disagree with their significant other.

Submissiveness creates a partnership, or an understanding between the two people in the relationship. ¬†Roles and responsibilities are discussed and presented, and those roles are adhered to until such time as more discussion is needed. ¬†Being a submissive person isn’t about giving away all of your control, it’s about using your power in the correct way. In other words,¬†¬†the willingness to submit is not actually giving up authority, but understanding the benefits of properly using your clout in the relationship.

Today, I sat in church for the first time in more than a year, and my Pastor was speaking on this subject.  Everything he said, I had just recently discovered within myself, so it was like the entire sermon was confirmation just for me.  During the sermon, several points were made that really made me see some of the relationships I have had in the past in a completely different way.

  • Woman was designed to fulfill a need inside of Adam (Man) – Genesis 2:18
  • Woman was designed to bring out the Man in Adam – Genesis 2:21

Submissive {from the Hebrew Definition}

To Line up under, for your protection.

What this said to me, is most women who have such an issue with being submissive in their relationship might not have the right man for them. ¬†Every man has an innate need to prove their manliness. ¬†Usually he does this by being a provider/protector. ¬†In the age of the Independent Woman, we no longer allow men to do/be this. ¬†“I Can do Bad All By Myself,” “I don’t need no man to tell me how to live my life, ” etc. has led to the downfall of relationships, in my opinion. ¬†If you are with a man who feels no need to protect/provide for you, he’s probably not the right man for you.

You should also remember – according to Biblical Theory – Man and Woman were created as equals. ¬†It was only after Eve tempted Adam God said, as a PUNISHMENT, Adam would rule over Eve. If you – like me – don’t spend every day looking at the Bible . . . you can just look at Biology. ¬†There are very few things that a Man can do, that a Woman can’t.

It takes a certain KIND of woman to bring out the protector/provider in your man. ¬†The Club Heauxs, and Facebook Models will give a man everything he wants. ¬†But very few women cause a man to look for what he needs. ¬†So if you have found such a man, why must you constantly explain to him that YOU don’t need him? He could have chosen, pursued, went after anyone,¬†and yet he has chosen to be with you. ¬†He wants to make your life easier. ¬†He wants to ease your fears, and keep you safe.

As a woman, you should understand the rarity of this selection as it were, and hold on to it. ¬†Too many times, we nag and nag and nag a man into being something he doesn’t want to be. ¬†In a stable/healthy relationship the Man already knows who and what he is. The purpose of a relationship is not to meet someone and change them, but instead to be together, sharing like interests. ¬†Relationships are for building character in both people, not breaking each other down.

I recently met someone who made me want to become this woman. ¬†Meeting him also made me realize I am nowhere near ready to do this. ¬†Being submissive means sacrificing the woman’s inherent need to nurture her mate. ¬†To mother him, and take care of him, instead of letting it be the other way around. ¬†If it was easy, everyone would be doing it. ¬†The more I think about admitting that I am submissive by nature, the more I realize that I have also become closer to God in the last few months. I think there is a direct correlation between those two things, and My Awesome Pastor confirmed this for me today.

This isn’t an “Only Smart Women Submit” type of Blog. ¬†It’s really me trying to figure this whole thing out for myself. ¬†Submission isn’t just a biblical thing, or a relationship thing {Part 2}, or a sexual thing {Part 3}, it’s an overall decision you make for yourself. ¬†Honestly, I’ll be 30 years old in 6 days, and I JUST figured this out. ¬†But this revelation really has changed my outlook on future relationships.

I want to be in a relationship, not because I like hugs, but because I am quite weary of not being able to share my life experiences with someone. ¬†It’s amazing the things you are able to admit to yourself, when life makes you sit your black arse down and evaluate who you really are. ¬†In my journey to become a person that I like again, the path is not what I was expecting. ¬†18 months ago, I would have lambasted a blog like this with snide comments and judgments. ¬†Instead, I sit here writing it, not ashamed and actually hoping it sparks conversation among my friends.

As always, your thoughts are welcomed! Let me know what you think!

I am My Mother’s Daughter/The Sins of My Father

I hate being like this, sitting around thinking all day, but this won’t leave my head until I write it, so here goes. The title pretty much explains itself. While reading this Nora Roberts novel that was supposed to distract me from these very thoughts, I was intrigued by one of the minor characters. She is part of an abusive relationship, pretty much her husband as been beating the shit out of her for ten years. When she went home to her mother, her mother’s advice, A Woman Stays with her Husband.
Does She?
But there are so many different levels of wrongness in that statement, that I had to plot on it for a little bit. How much do your mother’s decisions, control you? How much have the Sins of your Father affected you. This note isn’t for everyone, and it’s not a “I have Daddy Issues, don’t judge me” note either. It’s an honest question. Are you your mother’s daughter?
Living the Life
Scenario #1

I see my mother allow my father to walk all over her everyday. She cooks, she cleans, she slaves all day at home, without a word of thanks. He’s never cheated, he’s never hit her, but he’s never allowed her to be her own person. I feel like he is punishing her for something only he knows she did wrong. I will NEVER be like her.

So this girl moves away from home, finds a new life in the Big City! Get’s glamorous jobs, meets and befriends famous people, lives the Sex and the City Life. She has even found her Big. Or what she thinks is her Big. They don’t live together, but she is always at his place. Every time she does something he doesn’t approve of, he finds a way to make her undo it. She changes her hair for him – “I thought I would try it, blondes do have more fun right?” – Get’s rid of all her male friends – “They were always being rude to him” – Put up with his slacker ways – “At least he is exciting.” But at least she’s nothing like her mother.

What they all do . . .
Scenario #2:

I never could understand why my mother and my father ever got together, they are nothing alike. When I asked my mom what she saw in him, her answer, “The Conversation was amazing.” They were only married for a few years, she got out before he ever hit her (or so she told me) She left and struggled for the rest of my life, all because of a man. Because he broke her. Turned her into a shell of herself. I will NEVER be like her.

So this girl, afraid of ending up just like her mother, does everything she can to not get caught up in a relationship. She longs for male attention, because her father doesn’t give her any. She has never had a real relationship in her life, because her mother was able to live without one. But every once in a while, The Conversation is Amazing. She gets sucked in by the words, and doesn’t pay attention to the actions. Even when she knows that it’s all lies, she is somehow surprised when he turns out to be an asshole. And, as she tries to forget the mistakes she has made, pretends he didn’t steal part of her, she finds an outlet for the pain. She writes, she sings, she reads. But at least she’s nothing like her mother.

I Pray things change
Scenario #3

I know my parents aren’t perfect. My father wasn’t always faithful, he didn’t always stay at home. Yes, he is a man of God, he’s active in the church. They both are. He has Rev in front of his name, and my mother has always been there for him, even though he is almost never there for her. It hurts me to see how he treats her, and how she allows herself to be treated, I will NEVER be like her.

So she tries her best to be independent. Because if you don’t have to depend on a man for anything, he can’t hurt you. She looks for love, and thinks she has found it. Falls head over heels, and does everything she can to support that man, even though he doesn’t do the same for her. And when he breaks her heart, she moves on, taking that as a lesson all men are the same. Even though she swears she’s over it, the hurt can easily be seen in her eyes, and heard in he voice. But at least she is nothing like her mother.

How long are women going to suffer for the sins of their fathers?

How long are we going to be our Mother’s Daughters?