10:29 p.m. - 2007-09-21
A WOW Moment - No Turning Back
Tonight I had one of those WOW moments.

As I am going through a divorce...did I tell you that?? Anyway, as I'm going through this process I am spending more time around my parents.
Tonight I observed an exchange between my mom and dad and realized something incredibly telling about the disastrous choice that I made in marrying John. You see I could never understand why I chose to be with a man who clearly hates women. Sure he had convinced himself that he idealized them because his mother was a single mom, but in actuality he admittedly hates women.

The booming truth that I realized is that my father also hates women. Heavy, right??
You see, growing up I was very deeply engrained with the need to seek approval from my dad who never wanted to do anything with me. Most all of my childhood memories lack his presence entirely and some are actually tainted with the horrifying recall of crying over or begging him to participate in anything with me. Take me fishing, hunting, etc. Do you truly think a 13 year old little girl wants to go hunting? Please?
All I knew was my dad was there and he loved it and I wanted to be a part of it. No go. He took his best friend son instead. I was devastated so I hid his hunting license for 3 hours and secretly reveled in his increasing frustration as he twice unpacked all of his 8 bags of 'gear' and repacked them. I eventually gave it to him and told him to have fun killing Bambi.

An even older memory that I distinctly remember was from 4th grade. As I was headed to school that morning I noticed fishing poles in the back of his truck. By first period I was 'vomiting' the color 'blue' and NEEDED TO GO HOME. Hee hee Wouldn't you know, my dad picked me up and took me fishing with him to the town reservoir. WOW! I was immediately cured of my ailment and the ham and cheese sandwich he made me that day was the best tasting sandwich I have ever eaten. Additionally, the bizarre, prehistoric-looking fish I caught that day seemed to fascinate my father and it left me beaming with pride. It was a marvelous summer memory even though it is tainted somewhat with the truth that my mom made him do it. I overheard them later and learned that she had pulled out every guilt-laden tactic she had in her southern-womenly repertoire to FORCE him to take me. Hell, I would not be surprised to find that she had told him he wouldn't get any for a year if he didn't oblige her in this request.

My dad is a Texan and pretty much every stereotype that comes along with that word. The man is a hunter, a republican, and gun-loving woman hater who, lucky for me, had no boys...just two disappointing girls. Oh that he would have been man enough to recognize what fascinating, strong, compelling people my sister and I both became.

In some ways you know, I am so very relieved that I came to see him in this way finally. I can let go of the guilt that has haunted me for having a child with and marrying a man like John who is remarkably similar in almost all acknowledgeable ways to my dysfunctional, emotionally stunted abusive and immature father. Hopefully I can also be aware enough to never, never make this same mistake again.

I have always wondered why so many of my friends have considered my advice to be the best they can find. I am always the one to tell them to be bold in the declaration of their emotional selves and yet I find myself making decisions that can only be defined as emotionally childlike. It has truly always bothered me that I can give everyone else such great advice but cannot seem to live by it.

I believe that because I love my dad and never WANTED to see who he truly is there was this hole in my logic. Maybe now that I am being honest with myself I can move forward in a healthy, strong and independent way that my daughter can look back on and be proud of.

p.s. I've realized that my diary has become a suggestion box for the collective idealogies that have converged to become my subconscious self. In other words I've been bitching way too much for way too long. I promise to get back to the good ol' ever-emoting observer you loved so dearly. Peace.

previous - next