Cutesypah's Corner

As you know, I have many blog friends. One in particular is Gray Lily over at Journey Into Submission. Recently, she posted about her Daddy Michael. Her heart-felt post inspired me to discuss my relationship with Daddy, and what a Daddy/girl relationship means to me. As I began drafting my post, I realized I would need to break it down into several posts. The first part is here.

Then, her father got another job, just as her mother's parents died. When they moved, the girl, now 13, realized that she didn't have to be the best or the smartest anymore. She could be a new person, someone who had friends, and fun. So, she tried to leave her loneliness behind her. And, she did pretty well. She had friends, and fun, and found other girls who liked to read, and be smart too. And she met guys who liked her because she was cute and curvy, and sassy. But, her parents, particularly her father, hated the "new" girl.

Her father was now a boss of over 300 people, mostly men. He was still a workaholic, but now was also an alcoholic. He smoked 3 packs of cigarettes a day, and worked 12-14 hour days, six days a week. He was recognized as the country's best printer, but his children never knew this. His children were never allowed to learn of his accomplishments, and feel pride in having such a talented father. Her father wouldn't talk of such things because that was bragging. He didn't brag because that was wrong, and arrogant. Thus, his children didn't know this until his death.

Yet, he was an arrogant man. He believed that if you committed yourself to a job, you deserved recognition. He believed that if someone had money, it was because they found a way to "cheat" and be rich. He taught the girl that you can only be rich if you're greedy, and evil, and if you cheat. He learned that from his father, who worked hard every day, and died broken and poor. Her father often went to bed without supper as a boy, and didn't have but one shirt, one pair of pants, and a pair of hand-me-down shoes. It was only when he began working at age 12 that he had enough money to buy himself a new pair of shoes, and his own shirts and pants. He was a great man, a depressed genius, a lonely shell of a man, who never really figured out how to be happy until he reached 62 and was diagnosed with lung cancer.

The girl's mother didn't like the "new" girl either. She was dealing with the loss of her parents, and homesick for her hometown. She made few friends, and began drinking heavily with those friends, who were also had miserable lives and marriages. Her mom became even more withdrawn, more emotionally absent (if that were possible). when the girl got off the bus each day after school, she never knew what to expect when she walked in the door. Would her mother be nursing a hangover, or already drunk? Would her mother be pouting in silence, or raging, seething with anger, from being left to raise two children alone in a town she hated, while her workaholic husband partied and traveled with the salesmen from New York, Washington D.C., Florida, and California?

Now the girl was no longer praised, but hated for her desire to be loved, and liked by those in the community. The girl no longer cared about playing the saxophone, and played the piano only because she got attention at parties for doing so. She had well-developed curves, and had many men from her father's work stare and wolf-whistle at her. At 16, she looked 25, and could walk into any bar without a second glance, order a drink, and dance the night away. She had 30 year old men vying for her attention, and the boys her age were just that, boys, in whom she had no interest. More than one of the boys' fathers told her, in secret, that if only she were 10 years older, she would be wined and dined, and pampered as his wife.

Her parents called her "slut," and "whore," because she was constantly in the presence of boys, as few girls had any use for her, because they were afraid she would steal their boyfriends. The other boys in town started rumors that she was having sex with all of her male friends. Her friends all knew the truth, and fought valiantly to repair her tarnished reputation. But, she didn't care, as she getting the male attention for which she had craved many a year. It didn't matter how she got the male attention, as long as she got it.

She began dating a man 8 years her senior. They lost their virginity together, in the back seat of his 442. It was awful, painful, and she hated it. She loved the foreplay, but the sex scared her to death. It was almost a year later before she met a man she was willing to suffer that pain for again. This guy was a cop, and she was 17. She became friends with all of the police department. Her parents hated him, and she knew it. But, she didn't care. Little did she know that she was dating a man just like her father, workaholic, always absent, with a mean streak that included running around with women just to torment her with thoughts that he was always cheating. The drama and emotional abuse lasted about 3 years, until she moved away for a few months, taking a job in the city. While gone, alone and depressed, she realized how miserable she was with him in her life. She quit the job, moved back home, and started looking for a new man.

The next one was much worse. She lived with M nearly a year, her first live-in relationship. the benefit of this relationship was that M gave her orgasms. But, M was jealous, and overbearing. The emotional and verbal abuse destroyed what little self-esteem she had. She became a victim for a while, hiding out, living in fear of what he might do if he lost his temper. M never hit her, but it would have been easier to leave if he had. Verbal abuse leaves no visible marks, but the scars are horrific. It was as if she was beaten within an inch of her life each day. The stress was unbearable.

Her health began to fail, as she started experiencing migraines, and cysts, first in her breasts, then her ovaries. The ovarian cysts were so bad, she would literally pass out from the pain. Once, after she and M split up, she went to his house to talk with him. The ovarian pain flared, and she passed out on his bed. When she came to, M forced her out of his house, telling her he had other things to do, and it bothered him too much to see her in pain. So, he put her in her car, and she drove home, praying she didn't pass out from the pain. Although it was less than a 10 minute drive, she prayed she would make it safely home. Once home, she called her parents, called an ambulance, and promptly passed out again. She came to in the hospital.

Once out of the hospital, she began dating, and met her first husband, T. He lived a few hours away, and would come to visit her every weekend. M was unable to let go, and began stalking both her and T. He would call at 4 am, asking if he interrupted anything. He would circle her house in his car for hours, and try to get close to the two of them if they went out in public. Once, M showed up at her door drunk, demanding that T come out and fight him for the girl. The girl told M to get the f**k out of her house, and her life, and threatened to call the cops, as she still knew them all.

After this, she and T decided to marry, and she moved to his apartment in the city, a few hours from her hometown. She was 22, and had given up on the idea that she would ever go to college. But, it didn't matter, she thought she had found her Prince Charming. Little did she know, she married another workaholic, just like her father, emotionally absent because he gave all his love and attention to his momma.