DADDY ISSUES
Disclaimer
The information on this blog is not intended as a substitute for professional medical and/or mental health advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This blog is intended for informational purposes only. Any health concern must be assessed by a doctor or another licensed and/or certified clinician.
We are all a bit fucked up when it comes to Daddy. In my case, it gets a bit dark.
Born to a teenage mother, I never met my biological father. I used to wonder how my life would have gone if he had stuck around. I don’t wonder about that anymore.
The father figures in my life and how they have affected me has ranged from mild to Severe.
For roughly the first decade of this life, father figure#1 resented my existence. There was violence even in the silence.
Intimidation, manipulation, aggression were some of the ways he chose to relate to me. I hated being near him, he felt like simmering Toxicity.
Between father figure#1 and father figure#2, there were random boyfriends in the times that my biological mom and ff#1 was split up.
I was either an obstacle ; in their way. Or, I was someone they could take from. I was afraid all of the time.
When I was about 11, ff#2 came into the picture. He was a little more stable than the first one. Had no idea how to regulate his own emotions. He was like an overgrown child. He often referred to himself as a Good, “Nice-Guy”.
“Nice-Guy” Qualities (some of them)
Not aware of his own boundaries and certainly cannot communicate them
Needs to be SEEN as a Nice-Guy, even though he actually isn’t that nice at all
No depth, only surface level
Very far and away from his authentic self
Entitled (“I’m sooo nice, people should be nice to me. All women should feel safe around me. I’m sooo nice.”)
One catch about the “Nice-Guy” is that they will not think twice to dispose of the people closest or farthest to them in order to save their own skin
He looks like a law abiding citizen. Truth is, if he can get away with it without drawing unwanted attention to himself, he’ll do it
Lacks his own moral compass. Has internalized most or all of societal expectations. Cannot think for himself. In this way he mostly resembles a puppet
Will not acknowledge his shadow side ; the more he tries to suppress and hide this part of himself, the more pronounced it becomes
By the time I met and moved in with my then foster/future adoptive family when I was 13 ; I had been trained to always walk on my tip toes, never let my guard down. What I had been trained to do for as long as I could remember was to anticipate what people wanted from me and then give it to them, it was so much easier. This is why I preferred to be alone, I could actually breathe when I was alone.
ff#3, my adoptive father. Also, such a “Nice-Guy”. College educated. Respectable, whatever that means. For as long as I have known him, he has referred to his childhood as a “Leave It To Beaver” type of childhood. His father had a stable career that put food on the table and paid the bills, his mother did not work outside of the home. “Leave It To Beaver”….riiiiigghhhhtt.
ff#3’s main purpose in life was to be a Daddy-Husband to his wife. ff#3: Codependent and an Enabler. A perfect match to some who needed Saving and Constant Reassurance.
My adoptive mother had an abusive childhood and was used as a workhorse by both of her parents. She continues to refuse to do her own inner work and struggles to acknowledge these uncomfortable truths. Instead, whenever the topic of an abusive childhood came up, the focus was all on me. I’m the one who wound up in foster care. I’m the one who experienced unspeakable abuse.
Unless, it was to their benefit to deny my reality of pain and neglect, then I was told that my upbringing, “Wasn’t that bad”.
My adoptive parents: one is an Enabler ; the other is a perpetual Victim that no one understands.
I remember the first time I met my adoptive mother’s father. The second I locked eyes with him I felt Cold Cold Cold and Numb all over. I took this to be a sign to NEVER EVER be alone with this man.
I remember that first visit. My adoptive mom did most of the talking. The subtext of that conversation was:
My adoptive mom: “DaddyDaddyDaddy, look at me, look at me, look at me. Please be proud of me Please!!!!”---Like I said, we are ALL a bit fucked up when it comes to Daddy.
Navigating the social atmosphere of high school was stressful. I experienced quite a bit of harassment from boys and girls. When I went to both of my adoptive parents for support on how to deal with this kind of attention, specifically from boys, I was told:
“That means they like you. They just want your attention”. Then I was dismissed. This piece of advice certainly hasn’t aged well. At that time, I stopped talking about the harassment. It was clear they both wanted me to keep my mouth shut about this.
No wonder so many people are so fucked up when it comes to relationships. So many people refuse to acknowledge, talk about and process the dysfunction or straight up abuse—instead—Denial—Denial—Denial.
Since ff#3’s energy and attention went mostly to his wife to support her in every way possible, our relationship as a father and daughter was nonexistent. When I was a teenager, it didn’t matter to me because I hated men anyway. I was mostly afraid. Besides, his idea of what fatherhood is…
FATHERHOOD:
He did not abuse me, so that made him a good father.
He provided a house and basic needs with some fun road trips and vacations thrown in for good measure.
What else does a father need to do or be???
The fact that both of these parents assumed I was okay and blatantly ignored my emotional needs just because I was existing near them speaks volumes about their emotional neglect and lack of emotional intelligence.
While I was in my early 30’s and doing some intense healing revolving around my upbringing, I confronted ff#3. About how abandoned I felt as a teenager and in my 20’s.
His response: “You were so mature for your age. You had us fooled. We thought you were fine”. And went on to describe how self-sufficient I was as a teen. Self-indulgent, lazy parental leadership.
I started dating when I was a teenager. One quality about relationships I picked up on very early was:
Interactions were transactional (in a distorted way) ; attached with narrow expectation. I will give you attention as long as you meet my idea of you. Never step outside of the limitations I have set forth for you. One or both participants in the relationship are always striving to control the other. It's a trap. This is such an ingrained reality of relationships that most people do not see this. On occasion, when they do finally see this Truth, they are trapped and are in danger of staying trapped for the rest of their lives.
As a teen, I understood that in order to be in a relationship, you have to hide core parts of yourself. Being authentic was not celebrated. It was met with judgment and fear.
Besides, patriarchal rule despises Self-Possessed women. They are not controllable. Unruly.
When I was fourteen I knew it was up to me to heal my emotional and spiritual wounds. I knew it would take me a long time. I knew I had to be the one to heal myself. Often, I have felt dizzy from all of the turns and dead ends. How do I return to myself when I don’t know what that even feels like??? I refused to give up. I refused to put all of my hopes and lust for life into one person outside of myself. I chose to forgo a long-term, romantic relationship so I could dedicate all of my energy, love and support to my Healing. I have no regrets about this.
Throughout my career as a substance use counselor I have been confronted by my own biases and blind spots when it comes to providing a safe space for people to explore their own pain and healing and potential growth. This has been especially true with the men I have worked with.
I have had some very honest conversations with male co-workers who disclosed to me their own experiences of abuse when they were children. I had no idea how validating it would be for me to receive their perspective of their own personal hell. All throughout my teenage years and 20’s, I viewed men as a Potential Obstacle. I always had exit strategies in place. For a really long time it was comfortable for me to deny them their complicated, messy humanness.
Navigating my role as a counselor, while still holding my own trauma and healing and humanness ; I have had some tough lessons. At the beginning of my career when I worked at a methadone clinic, a male patient stormed into my office and started yelling at me. I immediately felt angry and many thoughts flooded my mind all at once:
“Who the fuck does this fucker think he is, yelling at me??? I don’t allow no man to treat me this way! He needs to get the fuck out of my face!!! Get out! Get out! Get out!!!!!”
I started yelling back and I did not hold back. I did not insult him, I kept the focus on protecting myself. This was a situation that could have escalated into physical violence towards me. I’m grateful that it didn’t. My supervisor came into the office and helped to de-escalate the situation. One of the lessons I took from that was that I still felt like such a target for male violence. I still felt so afraid.
A few weeks later, this male patient was back in my office. We had been talking for a little while, then he disclosed how he felt so afraid of not being able to provide for his wife and daughter. He had been to prison multiple times. He had a lot of barriers to finding a job. He started crying in my office. I held my breath and was achingly aware that I was more uncomfortable witnessing him cry and express vulnerability than I was with him displaying anger. This highlighted to me how much more healing I had to do for myself. How much more releasing I had to do. This highlighted how much I had internalized the idea of a man. I had internalized that men don’t cry.
While I was still working at the methadone clinic, there was another male patient I worked with for a couple of months. He looked more like a Frat Bro than someone who struggled with intense opioid addiction. During one of our counseling sessions, he disclosed how as a child he experienced sexual abuse by a man. I could feel his agony and profound confusion. I could sense the Emotional Labyrinth he was in. I could relate so deeply to his pain and humiliation. I allowed myself to feel deep empathy towards him and where he was.
When I had been so deep in my own agony, I just couldn’t think or even care about how some boys and men experience rape too. It didn’t even occur to me. And the vicious cycle it creates when it comes to men and women interacting within relationships. Under strict, patriarchal rule ; it is assumed that boys and men don’t have to worry about rape. Or emotional neglect, manipulation, invalidation because real, tough boys and men would never let that happen to them. Because under strict, patriarchal rule they need to be in control, stoic, unfeeling and to dominate when they feel the need to ; emotionally speaking, they are simple. This couldn’t be further from the Truth. When boys and men and the reality that they too are vulnerable to familial, partner or sexual violence is denied, so too, is their Full Humanity.
This is just one reason why Daddy Issues exist.
Some songs I listened to while writing this:
Daddy Issues…..The Neighborhood
Formula…..Labrinth
S.L.U.T.…..ppcocaine
Harley Quinn…..Princess Nokia
you should see me in a crown…..Billie Eilish
Gasoline…..Halsey
Rebel Girl…..Bikini Kill
Falling Away From Me…..Korn
STUPID…..Ashnikko, Baby Tate
Father Daughter Dance…..Kesha
Slave…..Ramsey
