Where do I even begin?
I am not a confrontational person, I don’t like to talk about nor express my feelings. It’s never been in my nature. I’m not an affectionate or touchy feely person. I hold a lot in and it takes a lot for me to touch on a subject- specifically sensitive subjects. I’m not a person of many words and more often than not, I stay silent rather than speak my mind. What I’m about to say I’ve been holding in for 23 years.
You spoke about the broken dream, well let me tell you about mine.
Growing up was hard. The only people I had were my brothers and my mom. We bounced around from shelter to apartment, and shelter again because my mother could never keep a job. I’m sure you know as well as I do that she wasn’t all there- mentally. Never made me love her any less, but it didn’t make it any less difficult. I couldn’t have friends over. Couldn’t go over to their houses. My brothers were my best friends. We were always broke, my mom on welfare and when we weren’t in a shelter we were living in the projects. I remember always thinking to myself, why me? Why can’t I live a normal life? Not so much the struggle because everyone struggles with something. But why couldn’t I walk down the street without my mom yelling at someone for no reason? Why couldn’t I go to school and not be embarrassed because my mom carried around a grocery cart full of our personal belongings? Why can’t I walk around without people giving me looks of pity when she acts out? Telling me they feel sorry I had her as a mom. Why did I have to live in a household where my eldest brother decided it was ok to physically abuse my mom? Why did my mom who was attached to my hip decide to one day up and leave, never knowing if, or when I’d ever see her again? These are the things I think about when I think of my childhood.
I also used to think, where is my father? Why would he let me go through this? If at this age I can see how mentally unstable she is, how can he not? How can he not care about my well being, my whereabouts? I used to lock myself in the bathroom and pray to God he’d take my life. I figured heaven (if that’s where I was going) had to be better than life on earth. This is honestly how I felt.
I do believe that things happen for a reason. That you are placed in certain situations and certain people are placed in your life for a reason. You mentioned earlier that after my mom left I did not have any parents. That’s where you’re wrong. I didn’t have biological parents, but I did have two people who loved me, took me in, and took care of me as if I was their own. As soon as they found out my brothers and I were living in a shelter, we were out within the next few weeks. They helped my brothers get on their feet and made sure I finished high school and got into college. To be honest I’m not sure where I’d be without them today. I will forever be grateful for my Godparents. For five years I was their child, official or not. And they still look out for me til this day.
You said to me, we do not have a typical father-daughter relationship. And you are absolutely correct…we do not. But you cannot expect that after 20 years we would. After everything I have just mentioned I’m sure you can understand why. You have come to terms because my being in your life NOW, has fulfilled your broken dream, but what about mine?
How can I pretend that the past 20 years didn’t exist? Didn’t affect me? Didn’t make me, mold me into the person I am today? You’ve never once asked me how I felt. How I’ve dealt. How I’ve come to terms. Or even apologized for not being there. You may feel as though my mother took away something precious from you, but do you know how much I feel I was deprived of? I was robbed of siblings, nephews, and nieces I knew nothing of. Things I longed for. Longed to know. I understand my mom is a difficult person, better than anyone. But a father has rights, legal rights. You could of fought, taken initiative. Even after she’d left and I was living with my Godfather, you knew where I was. You came to visit me when you came back from Paris. That was an opportunity you could of taken advantage of. I didn’t even know who you WERE. My brothers and I knew you as an uncle who we saw once in a blue moon. That’s who you were to me because I honestly had no idea. My brothers dad’s name is on my birth certificate, and for 20 years that’s who I believed to be my dad.
So many opportunities, so many years lost. Understand that I know you may not be the person you were years ago. People evolve, change, and mature. Understand that I know that you are now making the effort, trying to be better, to be there. But also understand that I am only human. That just because you have come to terms, doesn’t mean that I have. That I can’t help how I feel and I can’t pretend the last 20 years didn’t affect me. I can’t will away my daddy issues because you are here now. And believe me I’ve tried. The truth is your upbringing is the foundation for who you are. The relationship we hold with our parents or lack thereof are a reflection of any relationships we try to uphold in the future.
I say all of this to say, I appreciate you giving me a place to stay when my brother decided that he was moving elsewhere and going his separate ways. I appreciate your efforts despite it all. But this is how I feel, no matter how grateful I am.
This is why we do not have the “typical father-daughter relationship” you seek. This is why I’ve been angry and confused and still remain so. However you take what I have said, understand my intentions are not to hurt you. But I realize that it is time for me to express how I feel for my sake. Because I have been holding it in too long and I deserve to release it. I hope this helps you to understand that, this is the real broken dream.
Copyright 2016 Christiana Parisien
A Day in the Life 