Daddy’s Girl

Hey guys!

It’s about to get sappy up in here!! Just kidding…I’ll try to keep sappy-ness to a minimum.

So, growing up I was the only girl sibling (I had 3 brothers at the time). I feel like this made my relationship with my dad and myself extraordinary. Not to say that my brothers were chop liver – but I felt like him and I just shared a special bond that was somewhat beyond what he shared with them. Typical? Probably.

Anyway, I always remember him being there. I remember feeling ontop of the world when he would drive me to ballet lessons on his Harley. I remember the overwhelming emotions that would hit me like a wave when I would see him waiting for me with flowers at the end of a dance recital. I remember feeling like the coolest kid on the block because my dad always had (and still has) the nicest cars that he would spend his time building from scratch. I remember so many of my friends adopting him as their dad because he was just the BEST. My dad did not disappoint. Ever.

Okay, now you’re probably thinking ‘we get it – you were daddy’s spoiled little girl, now get on with it’. So here’s the twist. My parents separated when I was 14. Out of nowhere. I did NOT see it coming, not in a million years and I was absolutely devastated.

My mom found her own townhouse and the plan was for myself and my younger brother to live with her full-time. Moving day came. We packed and unpacked. My dad helped. At the end of the day it was time for my dad to leave and I was hysterical. I begged him not to leave me and eventually convinced him to take me with him. I ended up living with him full-time instead. Now, remember. I was a 14 year old girl full of hormones whose parents just separated seemingly out of nowhere….so what did I do? I rebelled. I’m going to leave the gritty details behind but I will tell you that I changed. I didn’t listen anymore. I broke rules. I skipped school. I would stay out all hours of the night leaving my dad to worry of my whereabouts. When I would visit my mom on the weekends I would turn into the spawn of satan! I blamed her. Why wouldn’t I? I was daddy’s little girl and she ruined him (sorry mom and dad).

My dad finally moved on and found a wonderful girlfriend. It took a little while but I warmed up to her and ended up liking her a lot. She was a hairdresser and she would give me the hottest hairstyles – for free! What else could a teenaged girl want. Unfortunately, things with them didn’t work out in the long run. Heartbreak set in again for him and frankly, I didn’t care to notice because I was too caught up in my own whirlwind that was my life. Time went on, my dad started dating again and that’s when he found his final partner. Dun, dun, dunnnn. S**! hit the fan. Now, from this point on things are kind of a blur. I’m not sure if I was living with my mom before or after this new partner moved in but that’s not important. It’s what happened next.

My younger brother was at our dad’s house visiting one weekend and he called my mom. He was really upset because there had been a disagreement of some sort between him and our dad’s new partner. Being the protective and rebellious sister that I was, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I called my dad’s house and stupidly left very vulgar messages on the answering machine for his lady. She called the police on me (yes, I was interrogated) and BAM my relationship with my dad was dead, just like that.

THE END! * Joking…keep reading

From that point on it was a miracle if I heard from him. My mom, brother and I ended up moving out of town to be closer to her boyfriend and her half of our family. The silence lasted for years and I was now in a love – hate relationship with my dad. The man who was once my happiness had turned into my sadness, outrage, and heartache. I yearned for the feeling of love and security that he had given me all of my life and I looked for it in all the wrong places, in all the wrong ways. It turned me cold.

It wasn’t until I turned 18 and gave birth to my son (shout out to my fellow young moms – you rock!) that I really started feeling again. The love and joy that my son had filled my heart with was able to replace the resentful feelings that I had harbored towards my father.

Eventually we made contact and he was able to meet my precious son. But it turned into an on and off relationship and this brought all of the resentment back. Although I was hurting because of the state of our relationship I would still take whatever time I could get with my dad because through all of the hurt, I’d always held onto my cherished memories (stated earlier) which in turn gave me the hope that one day we could share that again.

It’s been about 8 years now that I’ve had this dysfunctional “now I’m here, now I’m gone” relationship with my dad. Sometimes we have gone over a year (or maybe even years) without even a simple hello. But, I have good news. With that little bit of hope that I’ve always held onto, I have recently been able to begin salvaging that relationship with my dad once again. We talk at least once a week AND we even find time to video chat so that he can get to know my kids (he doesn’t live close enough to visit all the time). Some could call me foolish, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

If there is anything that you can take from my story, please let it be this; no matter what the situation, if you love and care for someone, never give up on them. Everyone is fighting their own demons that you know nothing about and life is too short to hold onto resentment.

Be hopeful my friends!




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