Fatherless? Just Tell Me The Truth.


As a young girl, she pondered her purpose.

Questioned the tragic event of her birth.

Where did her dad go?

To be exact, he was at the bar when she fell from her mother’s womb.

One year later, he left and never returned.

She has always been grieved by his absence, but never angry.

Not at him anyway.

Her resentment toward her mother, however,  grew more with each passing day.

The facade of her mother lit a spark inside of her.

How long can a mother tell a lie?

How long can a woman pretend a bad man is a good man?

Her daughter grew up in a warped fairy tale with false expectations.

Good or bad is irrelevant.

For it is honesty that is worth comfort in a child’s eyes.

She knows this from her own experience now.

This little girl is grown and now has two children.

Two children whose father has disappeared.

The circumstances are different of course.

But fatherless is fatherless.

These children shine because their mother never lied.

They will not grow up resenting their mother for painting a pretty picture of smoke screens.

Their father is not a bad man, but he chose bad things.

They know this.

There will be no surprise.

The inevitable disappointments will hurt,  but knock them down with less force.

They will be strong, independent individuals who know reality from a dream.

Their mother grew up riding her bike up and down the alley anticipating every car turning the corner just might be her dad.

She was disappointed.  Her disappointment turned into a life of pain and depression.

And a relationship with her mother she would rather forget.

She learned from her mother what not to do.

She loves her kids so much that she will not lie, no matter how bad the truth.

There is no shame in the truth.

There is no shame in authentc love.


Good Grief

grief quote

I had an appointment with my therapist yesterday.

I discovered why I am so angry.

Mind you, I’ve been seeing him for over a year.

I left my true self behind many years ago.

It’s as if I walked away from my own funeral before it even began.

I have made bad choices.

The main characters in my life have made many bad choices as well.

I turn 40 in a few months.

I will not grow if I don’t grieve.

Grieve my past.

My mother.

My ex husband.

I need to tell a story.

A story from the prospective of the girl who lost herself.

That girl is me.  40 going on 14.

If I don’t close my eyes and write from her point of view, I will die like this.

I deserve to be freed, and I believe the world needs to hear my. story

The choices.  The losses.

I will never move forward.

Why has it taken me so long to see?

First, I have a great therapist.

Secondly, I hate to feel.

When I feel pain,  I shut down,  I numb myself.

I drink.  I pop pills.  I don’t blame myself.

I shift to logic to avoid what’s happening in the pit of my gut.

Because the contents are scary, I am sure.

I am afraid of my own grief.

I have to do this.

I will do this.

I will shed this skin.

Now it’s time to tell my story from a different perspective…..

The girl I left behind.

Maybe then, I will uncover myself.