Daddy Issues

All week I have avoided writing this. I once heard that whatever you don’t want to write about, what is painful to write about, well that’s what you should write about. So here I go. I sat in church one day. I was by myself as usual. I was finishing up a very painful divorce that took a year. I had three small kids and I was tired. I was lonely. I had an extremely hard time with feeling depressed. I would cry for no reason. I sat there and the pastor said the title of the sermon, “Daddy Issues”. It kind of made me smile because I had been told my entire life that I had daddy issues. I didn’t believe it. I knew something was wrong but I didn’t think it was that. My father died when I was three. He worked at a chemical plant that exploded. He was one of the 17 men that died that day. My mom worked there too. She heard the explosion. She was told he was okay by someone but quickly learned that he wasn’t. I don’t remember a lot from that time. I remember someone bringing us flowers. I remember those flowers being dried out and in a drawer at our house. I remember moving to a new house. That’s about it. I don’t have a lot of memories of my dad. I remember him being in a robe, sitting in a recliner. I remember him driving my sister and I around in a motorized bike at a BBQ. That’s all I remember. I had a terrible Step-dad for a while. Those are the father experiences I have. I hear that my dad was handsome and manly. I’ve also heard he was an ass. I think he was probably all of these things.

My mother was great. She moved us to where there was a good school district. We moved into a beautiful house. She has always had a way of making life beautiful. She was determined to make us all okay. She put us in therapy many times in my life. Some times I did not want to go. I appreciate that she did that now. I grew up with so much. My mom put us in every activity we wanted: gymnastics, cheer, drill team, basketball, horseback riding, piano. I’m sure there are more. We went on vacations every year. She was there for us at every game, school event, every time I was sick, or upset. She jumped up and down with me when I got accepted into college. I did not want for anything while I was growing up. Because of all of this I did not agree when therapists would say I had father issues. “No, I really don’t.” I would say. I never sat around and cried about my dad. Most of the time I didn’t think about it at all. I had a very good life and was taken care of. My sister and I have talked about how we feel guilty for having the issues we have because our life was so great. I don’t want to claim all of these issues when other people have suffered so much worse. Our situation is nothing compared to what other people have gone through. But pain is pain, no matter what it is. So I totally disagreed with the notion of having daddy issues.. until I could not deny it.

I dated the same guy off and on through high school and college. I had just graduated college when we broke up. We had dated for 7 years. I had never really been alone. I did not know how to be alone. I had to keep myself busy. That meant I had to be dating someone. I had to be out with people. The second I was alone I would cry, I would be out of breath. I would call my mom and say “I don’t know what is wrong with me.” Fast forward to my divorce. I would call my mom and say “I don’t know what is wrong with me. I just cry. I’m just sad. I don’t know why.”

So like I said, I was sitting in church and the pastor starts talking about daddy issues. I thought well I probably need to hear this. He starts talking about how some women have a hole in their heart created by the lack of a father. He said some women cant sit in a room alone by themselves without feeling so much pain caused by this. (I teared up writing that). He went on to talk about what the role of a father is supposed to be. Then he explained how God is our father. He loves us. We are children of God. He loves us like a father would love his child. He will never forsake us. He is always with us. He has great plans for us. When the sermon ended I thought, “No, wait! What do I do though?? Please explain what I’m supposed to do!” I wanted to do anything to get rid of that feeling. Sylvia Plath is a poet and author who ended up killing herself by putting her head in an oven. I studied her writing in college and it is dark and super interesting. She wrote a book called The Bell Jar. In that book she describes how she feels like talons grip her heart. My pain was kind of like that.

Through out my life I have jumped from every relationship to another one. I was looking for male validation. That is how I got my self worth. It started in kindergarten with my first crush and kept going until I literally tired myself out like a child. Each time I got into a relationship I was “in love”. Really I was in love with the idea of love. My friends and family knew that in about 4 to 6 months I wouldn’t like the guy anymore. I grew up without a dad. I never saw that relationship of husband and wife. I wanted what I didn’t have. I never had a man tell me I was good enough. I wanted that. I sought for that approval through guys. I did not know who I was growing up. I tried to be what I thought people wanted. I was shallow. I did not feel good enough so I put on a front. I was full of attitude and sarcasm. I was a great actress. So I never discovered who I was, what I liked, what my priorities were. I was too focused on whatever guy I was with at the time. I dated for a while after my divorce. Dating in your late 20s and 30s is the worst! ever! I laugh and cringe thinking about the awful dates I went on. For years I thought, “I’m going to stop dating, only focus on myself, spend all my time with the kids, really spend time in the bible, start volunteering, learn how to be okay alone.” It was a good plan until I met someone else. Eventually, I got tired of dating. Every date was lame, every guy hitting on you and not really caring who you are, a first date where the guy touches you too much. “Don’t like being touched, thank you….” ha. The guy who asked me to meet his mom on the first date. AGH. The guy who sent me an explicit video because he missed me. What happened to sending flowers? Ugh. The guy who got drunk at dinner and tried to feed me. Um no. The guy who told me we would all end up being computers. (slowly walks backwards to get away). The guy who said my tattoo “wasnt that bad”. The guy who you find out isn’t “totally” divorced. The guy who thinks he has a great voice and wont stop singing. The last guy I dated invited me up to the heights for the weekend. Ugh I just didn’t want to. I realized how I was tired from all of it. I broke up with him. I stayed home that weekend. The kids were with their dad and I was alone. I decided that I would do this for at least a year. It ended up being a year and a half. I had my moments of feeling lonely and then they started to go away. Do you know that movie Run Away Bride? Julia Roberts is so unsure of who she really is that she doesn’t even know what kind of eggs she liked. She always just got whatever eggs her boyfriend at the time ordered. My sister said, “That’s you. You have no idea what kind of eggs you like.” She was right. I wanted to find out. I literally made all the different type of eggs one day. I like poached with salsa. It wasn’t literally about eggs though right? So I spent that year hanging out with my sister and brother in law. I went hiking. I went bike riding. I read so many books. I went to therapy.  I took my kids on vacation. I played with them and cooked with them and did art with them. I hung out with my mom. I hung out with my best friends. I prayed, a lot. I got into small group at church and made friends. I started volunteering at church. I worked out. I ran. I took jujitsu classes. I went on road trips alone. I cooked. I went to restaurants alone. I went to movies alone. I went to California and hung out with my brother. I got tattoos. I hiked in the mountains in Puerto Vallarta. I watched classic movies. I decorated my house and planted flowers. I killed the flowers. I drew pictures (I cant draw but it was fun). I read poetry (please read rupi kaur and Amanda Lovelace). I cut my hair super short and then I grew it out and then I got bangs and then I colored it, I played with my dog, Hazel. I went to the beach and read The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck, another great book. I listened to music super loud and danced around the house. I did whatever I wanted with no guy in the background giving his opinion or his itinerary. I grew to love time with myself. Most importantly I grew to love time with God. I tried to open the bible every day. I read this book I Don’t Wait Anymore by Grace Thornton. It is my favorite book now. She talks about sitting in front of God with only the intention of being with God, not because you want something. Her life did not happen like she wanted. She talks about what happened instead. This is the only author I have ever written. She wrote me back and I nerded out a little. I wanted to come to God with only the intention of spending time with him, getting to know him, to be more like him. Our pastor says that when you open the bible, God opens his mouth. This was the case for me. Do I audibly hear him? No. But I know that what I am reading is something meant for me. I feel it as I read it.

I realize now that without a doubt I have daddy issues. I hate that term. I hate admitting that I have them. No matter how great of a job my mother did she could not protect me from that. I missed out on having a dad love me. So I looked for it, it was my way of feeling wanted or valuable. It’s crazy how these childhood issues can shape everything in your life. If I could go back I would focus on myself and what I wanted. I would make God my priority. I would not be that boy crazy girl who searched for validation in all of the wrong places. It took a long time but I am okay now. I don’t feel lonely when I am alone. I actually crave my alone time. I know that no relationship is going to fill that void that I felt almost my entire life. God fixed that. I am engaged now. I started dating him after being single for a long time and being okay with being alone. My relationship with Duane benefits my life in so many ways. I would survive without him though. Luckily I don’t have to. I don’t change who I am with him. I am completely myself, to a fault. We are a team in life and he points me to Jesus over and over. I know who I am now. I know what I stand for and what I believe in. I don’t feel the need to impress anyone or to not act like myself. I know what eggs I like. I know now to whom I belong. I am the daughter of my father in Heaven, a child of God, deeply loved.

This post was important for me to write because I know that there are so many women like me. I don’t pretend to have any answers, just my own story. Hopefully my story helps in some way.