Looking back down the road...

Women at some point or another have daddy issues. All of us! I can’t say that I know anyone that doesn’t have a daddy complex of some sort. Some being not so bad and some being completely toxic!

If I think about my own dad and the issues I have dealt with, I think about how lucky I really am when I compare it to women I know that have severe daddy issues that I fear will never go away. When I think about my dad now, I think about how smart I know he is and how I run to him whenever I want real advice with an intelligent answer that will lead me in a better direction. His motto as I grew up was a simple one, always repeating the golden rule… “Treat others as you would want to be treated!”

My dad is a simple man. He doesn’t ask for anything, he always has put me first above and beyond anything else. I know his sacrifices and his joy. He is the type to not tell you things that cause worry even when it worries him into sleepless nights. I know the love he has for his family even though I cannot remember the last time I heard him speak the words “I love you”. I try and think back to the last time I heard him say it and the best I can come up with is an “I love you, too” back when I was ten or twelve at the most. As an adult I know my dad loves me and would do anything for me, as a child not so much.

My parents grew up in less affectionate homes than I had. I have become one that smothers all those that I love with complete affection, turning from the child into a teacher for my extended family. Grabbing them for hugs whenever I can to show them the awkward affection and attention they never had. I feel the weirdness of our hugs but I see them blossom around my own children as they hug and kiss them silly. If not for me, I am thankfully at least it’s for them; I mean that for both my children and my parents.

Growing up in a house where neither parent were affectionate and the “I love you’s” was something rarely heard. They weren’t my cheerleaders screaming at games, they weren’t my number one fan. Craving for that affection has turned me into quite the passionate adult. So, I can assume I am only better off for it and because of that I don’t cry to myself about what I never had, because it has given me something I want. Sure I wanted that as a child and every time I got attention, usually from boys, I soaked it up in ways I shouldn’t have. Learning as I went along and finally seeing my own daddy issues I faced.

My childhood ended much sooner than most people I know. Not exactly the worst thing, but not exactly the best thing. Finding the comfort that I wanted from my family turned me to finding that comfort from boys instead. They filled voids, always temporarily. Being an awkward child, an even more awkward teen, made those voids very hard to fill, so when I did find it, I took it for everything it was, even when it was the last thing I should have. Learning along the way, most of the time when someone says they love you, they don’t always mean it how they should. Also, learning that loving yourself is much more worthwhile and working on that even as an adult is sometimes challenging, but is worth it when I really take the time to really look at all the things in me worth loving.

Let’s move onto the real point of this blog…

The daddy issues of those I know. The ones that are so toxic, I actually feel fear when I think about them and their reasons for the decisions they have made or currently make.

I can list all the reasons why women feel the need to stay with men that hurt them, why they don’t move on or why they think they deserve the abuse take over and over again, making excuses for the men that they wish would love them like their fathers never did. Yet, it won’t make it go away and it won’t make them love themselves enough to know they don’t need men that hurt them.

Because they are already hurt, with men there or not, but someone being there is better than them being alone. Then when it comes to the abuse they take it, letting themselves be punished for every wrong they’ve done, because they must always be doing wrong… why else aren’t they loved?!

Being a victim hurts the deepest parts of your soul, being someone that causes pain fills you with guilt, being a bystander to either is pure torture!
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