The Internet can be a cruel and unusual abyss of half-cocked opinions and bargain basement analysis, especially when it comes to Black wom...
Daddy Little...Woman-the addendum
It wouldn't be fair if I didn't return to state that yesterday's post stopped short. I only wanted to highlight the cause of my abandonment issues.
The extended truth is that, while we were just short of absconded while my father was at work, and that he didn't come take me away from my new circumstances, he has always been present. I shut down because I wanted to be WITH my father, not because I sat on the oft told about front stoop waiting for a daddy that never showed up. I spent every other summer with my father. When we weren't with him, we were visiting his family, keeping the ties that bind tightly bound. It was the act--having my father swoop in on his white horse, his LTD--whatever, and rescue me from not having Daily Daddy. As a Daddy's Girl, that was crucial. I needed those nights laid up watching Fright Night with his special blend homemade popcorn. We shared grilled cheese and ice cream. Who else would pick me up to help me onto sidewalks (yes...I've always been small)? Who would show up unannounced during my school day with his camera and make me feel like a star? Like I said-CRUCIAL. My mother was busy with my little sister and I just didn't understand who would "keep" me.
I'm sure at least one of you is rolling your eyes, upset with me for feeling so strongly about a situation that wasn't nearly as dire as your own. While I'm thankful for what I did have, my experience is mine to feel in the way/s it manifested. The point was that the man who I charged with my protection, even from wicked mommies who forget that daughters LOOOOOVVVEEEE daddies, didn't come return to me to normalcy. All these years later I can see the brilliance in it, him not coming to get me and attempting to raise me on his own. Normalcy is the exact opposite of what that would have been, but who truly understands the future at 7? It pretty much doesn't extend past knowing that in a little bit you could watch your favorite show, or soon you could have some ice cream. I was short and short sighted.
Now, at 35, it still translates in me wanting a man to love me SO MUCH that he puts me above all else. Take a chance with me and on me because I'm standing here, dead in the center of taking a chance on him. So, before you tell me to give what I'm asking for--no need. Done it. Done it well. Want to do it again. I just want it to be reciprocated [in truth] on my next go 'round.
Like a friend of mine always says though, there are no guarantees and people aren't to be trusted, they're to be enjoyed. I don't know how much enjoyment I've gotten out of these untrustworthy ass mutha--ahem--but I get the point.
Watch me move.