Daddy's Girl

Growing up, I was a mama's girl. I was prissy. I liked the things my mom liked, reading, sewing and not getting dirty. My sister on the other hand was a tom-boy and total daddy's girl. When I was in the kitchen helping my mom can preserves, my sister was out riding the tractor with my dad. As we morphed into teenagers, that pattern remained consistent, I went to mom for advice, she went to dad. I fought with dad, she fought with mom.

I don't know if I was a mama's girl growing up because I naturally shared my mom's interests, or by default because I didn't get along with my dad. I know when I was very small, I adored my daddy like all little girls do. But as I grew, adoration changed to fear. My dad was very critical. He was a perfectionist. He was demanding and loud and often in a bad mood. So many of my memories of my dad from when I was young were of him yelling at me or punishing me. Because of this, I grew away from my dad. By the time I was in high school I was an angry, bitter and messed-up teenager who thought I hated my dad. I thought he hated me, to be honest, and I was just returning the favor.

I put my parents through a lot of grief as a teen, and now as I look back I realize the one I hurt the most was my dad. Because under his cold exterior he loved me more deeply than probably anyone else on this earth ever has. Now as an adult, I can understand why he was the way he was when I was small. He grew up poor, with a verbally abusive mother. He served in Vietnam. He worked in an environment where he was hazed for years. Basically, he lived through and with a lot of awful things and he was trying to figure out how to deal with them while also being a provider, a mentor, a father. A son, a husband, an employee. A Christian, a servant, a human. Basically, he was just like everyone of us on this planet! But as a child, we don't see our parents as human. Father's aren't allowed to have problems. They aren't allowed to have their own traumas and ghosts to deal with. As a child, I held my father to such a high standard that their was no way he could avoid falling in my eyes. Why did I do that?

As an adult, I understand so much more than I did back then. I empathize with his struggles, his issues, and his way of dealing with life. I forgive him his mistakes, and I pray that he forgives me mine. I see all the good in him, I see the depth of his compassion, grace and love and know that I am blessed to have such a wonderful father. As an adult, I have become a daddy's girl.