Another Father’s Day came and went. Alas, it was not without drama… nonetheless it was nothing even worth venting! Anywho, I went on social media to post 2 men, my grandfather and my father in separate posts… wishing them both a Happy Father’s Day as well as a posthumous birthday wish to my grandpop. To my surprise, despite almost stirring up a bit of a fuss, I stayed the course without getting triggered but I’ll save that story for another day. Still to give myself a little pat on the back, I’ll gladly say this, I didn’t fall for the shenanigans and I didn’t give the foolishness the attention I’d normally would have in the past.
Whew… healing is hard work.
Even though my grandfather passed nearly 20 years ago, he was pretty much like the only father I knew. I was glad to have spent the time I was allowed with him. He taught me to drive, change a tire, and how to do things around the house such as change a light switch or patch up holes in the wall… heck I even dry-walled my daughter’s room! Needless to say, he made sure that my already independent spirit would be ok when he was gone. In fact, both of my grandparents did… and the crazy part was they were not even my flesh and blood. That aside, I realized this didn’t create the independent woman you see today. That was created to cope, my grandparents just armed her.
My father on the other hand… well our relationship was more complex. He spent the majority of my life addicted to drugs and alcohol while pretty much absent throughout my life. But there were the times he came around and for the most part, we had fun on the few occasions we spent time together. That was if he didn’t go off somewhere to get ripped, I still had fun with my cousins.
Nonetheless, I spent my entire life in a series of problematic relationships, and even with therapy, I was insistent that my father’s absence was the cause of them all. I mean they say lack of a father creates daddy issues that leads to such things. Hell, I even worked in a strip club (not as a dancer…lol) although I did take up pole-dancing prior to that. But later I realized, that despite my efforts to find someone like my grandfather, I kept ending up with guys similar to my father.
It wasn’t until my 40s that I learned I had it wrong. I didn’t have just daddy issues. I had mommy issues too! I later learned the traits of being mentally abused as a kid and what a narcissist was. I had heard the word and its definition but I had never met one? It was later that I realized narcissists didn’t abuse their victims in the way I was assumed.
Coming up we pegged abusers to those that physically harmed their victims. But emotional scars… they were something else completely.
As a kid, the abnormal things feel well normal. Abuse felt like tough parenting. Because how do you know as a child how a parent should treat you? Even though my mother wasn’t around consistently, she was there a hell of a lot more than my father. Still, I eventually discovered that many of the experiences we had were problematic.
I went through the typical waves of emotions from disbelief, relief, anger, sadness, resentment, and happiness. Yet things finally began to make sense for the 1st time. All because I finally knew why I had been treated the way I had been all my life. I learned that I had the traits of quiet borderline personality disorder. I was always in a state of fight or flight.
As a kid, I retreated to metal garment closet in one of the rooms in my grandparent’s house. These days as an adult, I often sit in my car, especially during the pandemic. It reminds me of the safety of that closet. Regardless if I take a drive or sit somewhere close to home, I felt safest alone. Lit by only my flashlight and my only company were toys and imaginary friends, the closet was more than a place for clothes and moth balls. It was a place, I didn’t have to fear my words/actions. It was a place where I could be myself. It was a place I felt safe when my grandparents were away. I never knew that what allowed me to cope were in actuality my trauma responses.
Eventually, some of these became rather toxic. But I’m thankful that I developed some that were fairly healthy… well most of them, such as going to the gym.
Now don’t get me wrong despite my parents’ shortcomings, I adored and loved them. I know now that they require healing just as much as me but as an adult, I finally shed that need for their approval and validation or the need to help them “see me”. It was this revelation that has brought me to the conclusion that I also do not need the approval or love of anyone else. While being in a safe, loving relationship is desirable to me, this time around I’ve begun to learn how to go about that the right way. I will this time around avoid partners that need me to “fix” them or who have similar red flags that in the past I ignored and usually would gravitate towards. I don’t have the urge to people please or cater to anyone just for them to love me.
It’s taken a while and in recent months I felt myself almost slipping into familiar patterns but for the first time in my life, I am beginning to feel free of the burden of the need for any of that.
Here’s to healing yall!!
Until Next Time Kiddies,
Shalom
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