Overtures
Tuesday, April 20th, 2010Something is happening with my dad. Overtures have been made. A phone call here or there. An email. A text. A question that asks “Are you happy? I hope that you’re happy.” An invite for lunch when he’s in town for a business meeting. He’s trying, but it’s all very peculiar.
My heart isn’t necessarily hardened against these sparse and half-hazard efforts, but it isn’t exactly open to them either. My heart still hurts, remembers.
My dad has been a tyrant, a monster, a controlling prick, a maniacal self-esteem crushing abuser. I’ll never forget how he treated- treats- my mother. I’ll never forget growing up feeling unwanted for bringing them both to that sacrificial altar. I’ll never forget the threats, the bullying, the name calling, the upside down pants around the ankles spankings with the leather belt or the spanking on roller skates that led to my falling on the lawnmower and cutting both my shins, the spitting in my face, the capitalizing on my every weakness until I was mentally and emotionally broken. I’ll never forget how he suddenly subdued any lingering positive attention or encouragement when I turned 13, how he withheld his love.
His behavior has shaped and misshaped me in countless ways and echoes still. He may now say “I love you,” but he is still unable to say he’s proud of me- for who I’ve become and for all I’ve accomplished. In thinking of it, I break inside all over again.
So even though he’s now reaching out in positive ways, I can’t separate the version of the father I had growing up from the mellowed version of today. The adult I’ve become wants vindication for the little girl who had no advocate, no one to intervene on her behalf. The idea of not holding him accountable breaks me too.
And even yet, he’s my dad. The only one I have. What am I to do with that now?
just wanted to say…. sorry
Age does miraculous things to some people. In spite of his past behaviour you are an awesome person Nic. Even I can tell that. You are not a measure of his actions or mis-actions. And I believe that you can hold him accountable but getting to the place where you can raise it with hope of bringing it to conclusion…. that may take numerous lunches.
much love. x
Do you read the blog Sizzle Says? While I have not a foot to stand on regarding advice or insights to your situation, it does remind me of Sizzle’s? She had issues with her father, only he passed away before she could ever resolve them. She struggles with that to this day. You might find interest in reading some of her posts related to that subject. Or not. I guess, though, it does beg the question, what would you like out of your relationship by the time he dies? And if you don’t have that now, what needs to happen to get there? Very deep and complex answers to those questions, I’m sure.
Thank you both for your comments today.
I really struggle with knowing how to address my lingering hurt with him without him shutting me down. In some cases, I guess you don’t have the chance to do that with the person who has hurt you. They refuse to or you can’t locate them or they’ve died. Sometimes I think I’m emotionally ready to approach my dad with the hope of getting past my hurt, but then another year goes by and it just doesn’t seem possible. I wonder will he listen? Will he acknowledge me? Will he belittle my hurt or my memories and tell me I’ve got it wrong? Will he break down and apologize? Will it make me feel worse? Will any of it matter in the end?
I do think about what it would be like if I never had that conversation with him- if he should die before I even try. For now, I keep telling myself that just as I’m not responsible for his choices in how he treated me growing up, I’m also not responsible for his emotional limitations in addressing how he hurt me. It’s not a script I can hand him to read and I can’t direct his actions toward me. Knowing him as I do, I don’t think he’d be able to have a real conversation with me about it. He’d change the subject or walk away and refuse to respond. I don’t think I could handle that on top of everything else.
Sometimes the idea seems insurmountable. So I shove my hurt back down until he tries to reach out again.
oh nic, im so sorry. i also don’t really have any big words of wisdom here. it must be a constant inner conflict about what your heart is telling you to do here, what feels right, what you know you can and cannot deal with. know that you have a community here of people who have your back, and support you no matter what you decide to do on this one.
thinking of you lots and sending you some hugs.