Grieving Being "Daddy's Little Girl."
Maybe in another universe we met differently.
Maybe in another timeline you chose good more than vile.
Maybe on some planet you chose me, us.
Maybe... but not this one.
I've always wanted to know what it felt like to have a dad who made it known to me that I mattered.
It's confusing because when you aren't using drugs and abusing alcohol and manipulating anybody who's closest to you into agreeing with whatever selfish agenda you have at the time, you're great!
And when I was little I would hold onto that little sliver of "great" and desperately cling to hope that maybe one day you would change, and come back into my life for real. I always wanted you to come back... but the "you" I wanted, wasn't the "you" you chose to be.
And that's what makes the grief of not having you, run even deeper.
Because it was so much hope, and so much disappointment, time and time again, and then after so long I started to feel so dumb and pathetic for having hope in the first place to let your actions disappoint me.
Life after you just got worse, that is, until it got better as I got older and started understanding things for what they are. But nonetheless... things got worse.
I needed you. Again, not YOU you, but the "you" I always hoped you'd be.
I needed a dad.
A dad to show me my worth every chance he could get,
One to stroke my hair when I cried,
To tell me that boys are stupid and to focus on myself before dating,
To teach me all he knows about cars (he's a GENIUS with cars),
To make jokes with and laugh off the bad days.
To let my nervous system, brain, and heart know that I'm worthy, worthy as me.
It's weird to go through life hearing and seeing other little girls running up to their dad's after school into safe arms, and feel a wave of sadness, confusion, and jealousy rather than connection and warmth.
This is something I still experience, but with understanding, healing, and growing comes awareness.
And being aware of these thoughts and feelings as they arise allows us to acknowledge them, honour them, validate their origins, and let them pass. In doing this and in honouring these feelings, when I see these things now as I'm out in the world, my thoughts quickly transform into being happy that there *is* a little girl being treated the way she deserves, and that I *get* to see another child being truly loved.
This isn't always easy. These encounters always seem to be accompanied by my imagination tricking in.
& This "imagining" brings on grief in itself too.
Because you start to imagine what life would have been like, who you would be right now, what you would know, how you would operate differently in life and within relationships, had you actually had it the way you'd wished for.
I've come to the conclusion that I'm not grateful for the hardships I've been through. I've always used toxic positivity as a survival mechanism before and I used to say, "I'm grateful for everything I've been through because that made me into who I am today."
And though there's a thread to that, that I do resonate with, I also know that I don't need to be grateful for not having a dad. For having an addicted dad. For having a criminal and prisoner dad.
I'm grateful to ME for the way I have crawled through it all to the other side to be the person I have worked to be now.
Grieving you is so hard, and is something no little girl should have to do for a father who's still alive.
But it's also something I know I'm capable of. I can do hard things, I always have.
It's been a long road accepting I'll never experience the role of "daddy's little girl," but you know what... I'm finally okay with that.
I'm giving her all the love, hugs, compassion, understanding, and warmth she always needed. She's gunna be okay.
& I have me to thank for that.
To anybody who connects with this experience, know you're not alone, you got this, and you ARE worthy as YOU... regardless of the messaging you had about yourself growing up.
Until next time,
- Ash.