By Leanne Whaley, guest blogger
So, yesterday was father’s day. I watched all day long as people thanked their dads time and time again. Some had more than one dad to thank, and some even had a few dads, family friends, an uncle and a few mentors along the way too! I thanked my mom.
What I hate about father’s day, is that it reminds me of all the men that were brought in my life that absolutely rejected me as a daughter; and flat out did NOT want to be my dad. They just refused not only the job, but me.
Every time father’s day comes around, I’m reminded of how unwanted I was as a kid. I’m reminded of pain, of favoritism, of abuse; sexually, and physically. The emotional torture that a “dad” can inflict on a daughter lasts a lifetime. I hate that my mom tried over and over again; because every time she tried, I was only rejected again and hurt deeper. I hate that I too believed, over and over again, right along with her, and trusted, and opened my heart, time and time again, that this one may be different than the last one or two. I hate that they never were. I hated how my mom was so stoic about it all, demanding that we were stronger than anyone else and we’d just get through it. She assumed that if she didn’t show pain, that we wouldn’t feel pain. Of course, I didn’t know that’s what she was doing until I had kids of my own, and I’d be sad, or upset, and she’d tell me, “Don’t upset your kids! Don’t let them see you crying! Don’t let them see you mad!” In other words, never show emotion around your children. Something I whole heartedly disagree with.
Read the rest of Leanne’s post on her blog, Leanne Whaley