Daddy issues
By The Chaotic Diaries of a Brown Girl
It is hard realising how the deep rooted daddy issues have inevitably shaped who you have become. The wound of abandonment, lack of fatherly presence and love, the failure to step-up when you truly needed someone to - leaving you wounded as a child. The wound, a monstrous void, so large, leaving you desperately yearning for wholeness.
The fear of attachment to men; dating men who you know you will inevitably always leave; attaching yourself so firmly to a man that you never leave even when receiving the bare minimum leaving you forever unsatisfied; the fear of forming an attachment as you guard yourself from the repetition of betrayal; the inability to realise when you are treated right and it feeling so unfamiliar that it leaves you uncomfortable and wanting to so desperately flee. The calamity that becomes your comfort that chips away at you little by little.
The tendency to hypersexualise yourself in a desperate search for validation. The “I feel ugly so let me show more skin for validation”, but hating the unsolicited dirty male attention it garners. Sometimes where it goes so far that you don’t know how to draw the line between sexual and friendly.
The overwhelming thoughts of “I must cover myself entirely so that I protect myself from the male gaze”, “I should always protect myself from trouble” and “never ask for it”. The tedious task of protecting yourself in the form of living in constant fear - because your inner child lacked that protection growing up.
The constant craving of validation from men to feel a sense of worthiness - whether it be from male friendships, sexual, or romantic prospects.
The finding or inclination to find older men attractive or allowing yourself to engage in relations with older men or endorsing in the dirty attention bestowed by older men who continually compliment you on how “special” and “mature” you are for your age. Who validate you by reminding you that “you are not like other girls”.
The inclination to only stay with the deeply broken men, ones you know will never be able to give you the healthy love you so desire but cannot accept, staying always hopeful for the best in them to eventually come out. A desire that will never be met. Investing in them one by one, but leaving yourself more and more drained with every project that benefits from you. You mould them into the ‘perfect man’ as they reap the rewards and leave you wounded.
The tossing and turning late at night, pondering “will I ever be loved? I forever struggle to accept it although I am desperate for it” And the haunting fear of “will I perpetually inflict pain upon myself for this void growing on me like a dense shadow?”
Men of all forms have held the power to hurt us from the moment we enter this world. Yet, it is always the woman that is deemed the outcast, the disregarded, the unworthy and the villain for the harm inflicted on them. We acknowledge “daddy issues,” but somehow, the harm caused by the ‘daddy’ will only ever carry in the consequentially stained reputation of the child. The one who allowed the child to endure such anguish remains unseen as the true villain, escaping the aftermath of his crimes.
