Thursday, June 11, 2009
Once Upon A Daddy's Little Princess
Once upon a time, I was daddy's little princess. Just like all the other little girls in the whole wide world, my father had the super hero abilities to amuse and make me laugh until tears of utter joy moisten my eyelashes. I had him around my tiny little finger tips. And he, in turn, had my heart. I wanted to grow up and marry someone just like Dad.
As I grew up, my reliance and expectations of him increased exponentially. In my eyes, he was perfect. Strong, funny, reliable, trustworthy, understanding and protective. Everything a young girl could ever ask for in a father. Everything any woman would want in a man. I fashioned my ideal man according to my father's virtues.
And then, one day, my world collapsed. Everything around me fell apart. Everything inside me died. Betrayal from the person I least I expected to violate my trust. I became the reason for all failure. I became the informant. I became the source of all accusations and blame. My voice was too small to be heard. Adults never listen. They just turned their ill-based assumptions into a pillar of dogma. Unshakeable. Irrefutable. End of story.
My wish came true. I married a man who fits the very description of my father, perfectly. Happy ever after, right? That's what I thought. Until the rose colored glasses I was seeing the world through broke into a million tiny shards; leaving me with bare vision of the ugly reality of my life. The imperfection of man. Smashed idealistic denials. Stripped to the bone to bare naked pretense. All the while, I was busy picking up the little tiny shards of perfections and idealism, trying desperately to piece them together as my very sanity relies on this effort.
I had to be punched across my face by someone, who has no place in my life to begin with, in order for me to grow up. That day, I became an adult. In the midst of my 44th age. Does this mean I have been childlike in my thinking? Or just denying the truth in order to maintain some kind of normalcy in my cognitive processes. To just pretend, even for just a little longer, that I am still the precious little daddy's princess.
I called out to my hero. I believed that he would rescue me from harm and apprehend my attacker. But then, instead, he just turned on his heels and walked out the door, leaving me wounded and alone. I heard what sounded like shattering glass. Only it wasn't glass that was broken. It was my heart. It was abandoned. But the abandonment didn't happen on that day. In fact, it happened 30 years ago. When he walked out and left my brothers and I with just broken and empty promises. And because my childhood wish was granted, I found myself being married to someone who is exactly like my father.
So here I am. Finally did my growing up at 44. Life has not been a cruel teacher to me. Life left me many signs to read and learn. It was I who stubbornly chose to only see what I wanted to. Believe only what I needed to believe. Deny everything else that wasn't consistent with my ideals. But now, I see things and people as who, what and how they really are. I don't care so much for the whys of it. That will only open a jar of excuses and more lies to justify the original sin.
I am no longer daddy's little princess. I was never a princess. Once upon a time, I had a daddy. But now, all I see is the shadow of an exiting father. No one else is left for me to rely on except for myself. I need to be my own super hero. I need to have super powers. I have two precious little princesses of my own. I have to be there for them. I want to never let them down. I want them to trust me that I am reliable and dependable. Should I ever find myself depleted of strength and stamina, I shall lean on my pillar of dogma and hold on fast to my responsibilities.
This is what I learned on my own. I CAN mould and shape myself in order to show my precious princesses how they can be strong and able as well. We can only rely on ourselves. Others may disappoint us. There is no such thing as a perfect parent, except in the eyes of a 2 year old child. Fortunately enough. She's all grown up now. No more room for lies and denial. She sees it all clearly now. For the first time in her life.
Happy birthday to me. I'm 44 years old and I was born 2 weeks ago. Congratulate me. I can see clearly now. What a world! What an ugly world...