Last week I posted about Lestat the Emotional Vampire’s attempts at communication and how a dream that resulted from one of those voicemails came to be. I went to go see my genius therapist Terri (which I’m starting to think she’s getting a swollen head because I keep telling her she’s a genius) interpreted that dream and told me what my subconscious was telling me. So, she also mentioned that because I have daddy issues (y’all have no idea how hard that was to write) I fell for someone like Lestat in the first place. So, here I am to write/post about my daddy issues because according to Terri, if I post about this it will be easier to accept it and move past it. She also told me that she’s read my blog and that I cuss way to much but I’m like, as my blog states, it’s my blog and I can cry if I want to, or in this case cuss. But as always, I digress….so, here I go.
According to Terri, daddy issues are psychological challenges that are posed to girls as young as five and as old as…..well into our late sixties or so that are often manifested by an abnormal relationship with one’s father. Such as an absent father, a father who only accepts or acknowledges their daughters/children when it’s convenient for them, which may manifest in trust issues, low self-esteem, and even sexual promiscuity. This comes about because as young girls, our fathers are the most important male figure in a girl’s life. From the time we’re born to the time they die, they are the one man that we (supposedly) hold all other men in comparison to.
From the time I was born, I was always, somehow made to feel that I should have been a boy. My parent’s firstborn should have been a boy, they weren’t prepared to have a girl, so from the time I could remember anything, I was treated like a boy. That is, until my brother was born because after that, I was pretty much ignored until my brother turned out to be a dud and then all attention was back on me.
Let me explain in further detail, when I was born my parent’s had never chosen a girl’s name, or planned for a daughter in anyway shape or form. They had no girls names picked out, so when they named me, they took my name from the comics The Archie’s, particularly Veronica Lodge. My parents were living in San Bernardino California at the time and one of my uncles was really into that comic (yay, I’m named after a comic book character). Anyway, as I grew they shortened my name so I went from Veronica, to Ronnie to Roni, then to just Ron. For the entirety of my childhood (and growing up with mainly male cousins) I was known as Ron. If we were together, they’d assume it was six boys, when in reality it was five boys and a girl.
As a kid, I never saw anything wrong with this, but then as an young girl, I went to school dressed in hand me down clothes (boys clothes) for the most part, overalls, jeans, football jerseys etc. And it was in the fourth grade (when I had my first crush) that I realized I looked like a boy, and my crush didn’t want anything to do with me because of it. So, I began to tell my mom I wanted “girl clothes” and she said “Oh, god girl clothes are so expensive!”
Yes, my mother said that to me, but she bought me girl clothes anyway. She drove my down to JC Penny’s at the mall and bought me frilly dresses, socks with lace around the cuff, patent leather Mary Jane shoes, and most importantly, a girl’s winter coat. Because up until then I was wearing a hand me down, green satin New York Jets bomber jacket that once belonged to one of my older cousins.
So imagine my shock as I got to school the following week, actually looking like a girl, and getting ridiculed and made fun of for looking like a girl! Now I think, those asshole bastards, seriously. But back then I didn’t know what to think, and I was more confused than ever. But moving on, as I grew my dad was always too busy to spend any quality time with my brother and I, and that resulted in being alone with a mentally unstable, narcissistic mother who was so self-absorbed that she saw me as competition for my dad’s affection. Which made things even worse for me because my mom would lie to my dad about stuff I had done, said or intended to do. She didn’t do this with my brother, but I think that’s because he was a boy. Anyway, as I grew and began to show some signs of mediocre athletic interest or talent and began to play sports in junior high. I was on the track and basketball teams, but always on the second string or alternates. During the summer I’d play softball, which oddly enough turned out to be my best sport. Because my dad was a great ball player when he was young I thought and expected for him to at least semi interested and attend my games.
But as it turned out, both my parent’s didn’t think it was important enough that I was playing sports for them to show up like all the other girls parents did. I wasn’t the only one, I’m just saying that there were three of us girls on all of the teams whose parent’s never showed any interest in us playing sports to come out and see us once in a while. But when my brother began little league, they were at all his games. My dad even coached one of his teams and then shit hit the fan, my brother got hit in the face with a baseball, had four stitches on the inside of his lip and grew scared of playing and never played again. And the motherfucker was only nine!! So, there went my dad’s dreams of honing a future major leaguer, and went back to his own baseball playing on the weekends. Meanwhile I won (with my team okay) two city softball girls championships, and second place as a cross-country runner.
My dad was/is an alcoholic, but not an aggressive one, he was for the most part the passive one because my mom was a fucking lunatic. She made all our lives hell and for the most part my dad saw his way out of being with a mentally unstable wife and mother was to work as much as possible, play baseball and drink until he was just too tired or drunk to deal with her. My mother was (and sometimes is) a complete bitch. My dad never acknowledged his kids or spent time with us, because he was too self-absorbed in his own way of numbing himself to my mother’s type of crazy, he just felt it was better to stay away from all of us.
My dad was absent both physically and emotionally, and that’s why Terri said I found traits like him in men like my stupid ex-husband and Lestat. I told her that both of them were the exact opposite of what my dad was, but she explained that that is exactly why I held onto them as long as I did. They were controlling, manipulative, egotistical and very passive-aggressive, and I had mentioned to her that they seemed more like my mother than my dad. But she explained that because my dad was supposed to be the positive male figure from the time I was a baby, I found this in the men I was involved with and I was never able set any boundaries with these men because my dad never demonstrated any interest in me. Therefore the so-called “daddy issues” began. Then, she dropped the big bomb on me, she said I tended to seek out “emotional unavailable men” just like my dad.
Now that, I completely understood but never (and I do mean never) made that connection. So when I began to see Terri and talk about Lestat and told her about him and his characteristics, habits and such. She made that connection right away, but didn’t tell me until I told her recently about him trying to contact me again. I asked her why she hadn’t said this to me when I began seeing her and she said that we had to work through one thing at a time. And that getting myself ready to kick his ass to the curb (my words not hers) was the most important thing to do first. Then we’d tackle my so-called “daddy issues” later on, because according to her it was best to get rid of Lestat before going into why I kept him around for so long than the other way around.
Okay, I give her that she’s a smart cookie for sure, and I’m all for her helping me. After all I’m paying her to help me right? She’s going to see this comment and I’m sure she’ll have something to say about it.
In any case, after she pointed this out to me there I was, scanning back into my memories about the things that Lestat said and did that should have been obvious but I failed to see. His controlling ways, his emotional manipulation, his caring then cold demeanor, and indifference. He was, as Terri put it, emotionally unavailable and I didn’t see it. It took me twenty fucking years of my life to finally see what and who he really was and then learn to love myself more than I loved him in order to cut cord with this selfish man and walk away.
But Terri did emphasize this, that I am over my daddy issues with Lestat because I chose to walk away from this egotistical, asshole, prick bastard. That I’ve become an independent woman who knows how to get things done on her own instead of looking for a man to do/fix them for me. But I got here by white knuckling it for twenty years, attempting relationship rehab so many times that I questioned whether or not I’d actually survive. Struggling emotionally to figure out who I was and how I got to this point in my life. But I did it, and I’m happy…..for now. Until I can manage to buy a house that is.
As for my dad, I have no emotional ties to this man either, he’s just…dad. He’s a selfish and now elderly man who needs my help because of his declining health and I’m finding it very hard to be the daughter both my parents want me to be. I’ve let Terri know that I feel no other connection with my parents other than (hold on to your knickers here) they are the people who gave birth and raised me, without any love and affection. And now, I feel the same towards them. My brother on the other hand is a completely different story, but that’s a post for another time.
As for me, I tried to be the mother AND father to my boys that my parent’s never were. I put them first, I made them the reason I existed, but without smothering them. I taught them how to drive, shave, wash, cook, iron and respect women. I taught them how to be men, without having a positive father figure myself. So I think, in spite of my upbringing, I’ve done a pretty good job. They did however, all inherit my sarcasm, now that it something that routinely comes back and bites me in the ass. But I’m okay with that, if that’s the worst characteristic they’ve shown, then I’m okay with it. Until I have grand-kids that is….then I’ll get my revenge, lol.
Random Thought of the Day
Using a damp beauty blender to apply ALL your makeup is a bad idea…..
Well it is for mature skin, it’s only good for foundation. But I tried that method this morning and now I look like I have caked on makeup and look like Tammy Faye Baker, and feel like I have plastered on makeup and everyone can see it…..I can’t wait to get home and wash my face….
This is the Huntress, over and out!