“Strength is also a façade when we are forced to be strong about things our bodies were never designed to endure.”
My biological father has been absent for the majority of life. There were periods of time that we would interact, mostly when I was a child and none at all as an adult, except for the time we saw each other by accident. But that is a story for another day. I had a wonderful mother and stepfather growing up. My mother did the absolute best to create a family dynamic that was as normal as possible. In many instances, I was arguably provided for more than some who had two biological parents. So, one could assume that the impact of my father’s absence would be minimal since my life’s progress was not inhibited. Interestingly enough, it was.
My life might not have been financially or physically impacted, but it absolutely was emotionally and mentally. His absence strengthened me spiritually at early age because the ways in which a child relies on their earthly father, I had to so do with my heavenly father. In all honesty, the effects of his absence weren’t apparent to me until my final year high school. This is not to say the evidence of his absence weren’t manifesting in my youth, they were just taking shape quietly below the surface.
I didn’t wear my daddy issues on my sleeve in the most common ways. I wasn’t obviously suffering from low self-esteem, wasn’t highly promiscuous and didn’t have to vie for the attention of men. I walked with my head held high, took pride in the way I dressed and presented myself, knew what to look for in a man from my mother, and knew how to set boundaries with the men I dated. I carried myself maturely, so my attraction to older men made sense. I had enough of a façade to get by undetected. The alternative, was to be labeled by men as having “daddy issues,” which to me, was like wearing a scarlet letter.
In reality, my daddy issues ran deep. Unresolved matters with my dad echoed into the valences of my relationships, rendering them irreparable. I was only attracted to older men, emotionally unavailable, detached, distrusting, had low self-esteem in many areas and preferred sexual relationships to emotional ones. I was a classic case of “daddy issues” hiding in plain sight. Hiding in plain sight under the guise of being “strong.” Strength is also a façade when we are forced to be strong about things our bodies were never designed to endure.
Culturally, black women are not given the space to process and heal from childhood traumas because so much of who they are is centered around being strong. Our moms weren’t taught to heal, therefore we aren’t either. So, we carry it with us into every encounter we face, developing the ever-so-infamous “chip on the shoulder.” Out of utter rebellion of the stigma, I refused the chip. To me, the chip relinquished too much power and signified defeat. Carrying a chip proved that the dysfunction won over my life. Anger has its place in the healing process, but doesn’t have its run of the house.
Resentment is simply the flag in the ground that exclaims that anger lives here, and nothing else. No trust, no peace, and definitely no healing. I have found that harboring resentment shields out pain, but also shields out love. So, I had to decide which was most important.
Because I had always carried my “daddy issues” so discreetly, I also never really openly discussed them with others except for with my husband. I became curious about the emotional impacts absentee-fatherism has had on dating for other women, since the subject is always so haphazardly thrown around.
I reached out to a friend of mine who was more vocal and transparent about her struggles with her own father and invited her for coffee.
We had a “Black coffee conversation,” which she so eloquently coins the phrase, and this is what we discussed:
Brea L. Perry: How was your relationship with your dad?
Bree: From birth to age of 10, we had a great relationship and he was very involved with my life. Some of my fondest memories were of us making pancakes and playing games. However there was some divisiveness within the household due to my father being a Jehovah’s Witness and my mom is a Christian. Their beliefs were divided, resulting in fights, and he was verbally abusive with mom about money. As a child, the discourse around money created an anxiety at car dealerships because we would go to the car dealership to buy a family car and not have the funds to purchase it. In my adult life I had to overcome financial deficiency. My parents divorced when I was 10 years old and my mother, brother and I moved to Atlanta, GA from Jacksonville, FL. My mother started dating again and we lived with her new boyfriend. For a period I moved in with my dad in Jacksonville, until my mother learned that he was neglecting my brother and I to do drugs and go to strip clubs nightly. So I then moved in with my aunt for the remainder of the school year. After the dust settled, my mother informed me that my dad had always abused drugs, even while they were together. From that time on, I saw my father occasionally but never stayed over night with him. We still talked and laughed but his presence just wasn’t the same. My dad eventually moved into half way house but I was too young to comprehend what that was. I just thought he lived in a house with several room mates. We only spent a few hours at a time together. He wasn’t able to see me off to prom but he did attend my graduation. My dad later moved to New York, I had internalized his absence but still unaware of the effect it had on me. The long distance eventually strained our relationship. I realized over time that his drug abuse was a result of his fathers absence, and an overall generational cycle.
Brea L. Perry: Have you seen remnants of the dysfunction of that relationship show up in your dating relationships or marriage?
Bree: Absolutely! I was clingy and always wanted to be around my ex-husband because I was using him as a filler for the absence I felt from my father. I had an expectation for him to affirm me via compliments, financial security and much more!
When I got pregnant all things came to a head. We no longer lived together, and at 6 months I mentally broke because my father was not around during integral periods in life. The discord between my ex-husband and my father’s lack of support just became overwhelming. I began to realize that all of the men in my life have rejected me, and started build a resentment.
Brea L. Perry: What was your process to heal from the dysfunction prior to your marriage?
Bree: I began the healing process with my father, while still in a relationship with my emotional abusive husband. I believe getting into abusive relationships directly correlates with the examples we have seen in our parents. In a cycle of relationship abuse we have to mend what initiated the cycle in the first place. I addressed my father about his absence in my life and now my daughters when he didn’t appear for her baby shower, the pain became overwhelming so I had to say something to him about it. I confronted him when my daughter was 9 months old. When I called him to express my dissapointment with him, he had nothing to say at the time, and then a day later he apologized to me, owned up to his negligent ways and said he would plan to come visit me and my daughter. He did in fact drive down to see us in Atlanta and I forgave him.
Brea L. Perry: Well thank you so much for taking the time to speak with me and share your story with my readers. I am happy that you were able to break the cycle of emotional abuse and dysfunction through healing, forgiveness, reconciliation with your father.
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