Father's Daughter

 7 years ago on Father's Day, my dad angrily asked me to never call him again. As someone who has pursued my dad all through childhood and into my early twenties, his request shattered me and I brokenly obliged. I stepped away from a relationship I never had any control over to begin with, and one that caused cascading amounts of harm and injury. The cord was cut, and like a wounded animal, I backed away to tend my wounds and didn't look back. 

7 years is both a short and long time and I am no longer the 23-year old person I was back then. I am 30 years old now, and have experienced my fair share of internal work and healing (both of which are still ongoing processes). When my dad reached out unexpectedly at the beginning of May, I didn't answer my phone and instead processed with my therapist. I gave myself the liberty to not respond to my dad right away and gave myself the time and space I needed to prepare for our eventual interaction. Some time passed, and he again reached out on my actual birthday on July 11th. Indeed, this text was distinct in that there was some semblance of him owning up to his mistakes and acknowledging that his past behavior had caused a ripple effect of damage and harm - I responded by saying thank you for the text and that I would reach out when I was ready. Again, no rush. 

We eventually set a time to talk and this phone call happened last night at 8 pm. There are aspects of the conversation that were to be expected (even after x amount of years): my dad's tendency of centering himself, of being overly defensive and victimizing himself, of creating new narratives of the past and living quite frankly in a totally different version of reality. None of it came as a surprise, but it did leave me feeling once again disoriented and discombobulated. He was unaware of what catalyzed the 7 years of no communication, and at one point reverted to his tried and true line of "why didn't you reach out these past 7 years?" I pointed out that it was at his volatile request to not contact him that had made me step away. He immediately feigned surprise, responded defensively and initially denied that he had said the above statement and then he pendulum swung the opposite direction, admitting that he must have done something wrong to instigate me not contacting him. He proceeded to then ask for my forgiveness. 

I could go on and on about all that landed wrong and made me cringe throughout the 30 minute conversation with my dad. Truth be told, it was not pleasant and made me slightly worried about his cognitive  disconnect with reality. And yet, I ended the phone conversation with a sliver of hope. He had verbalized some admittance of doing wrong and was aware to some extent of how his behavior hurt me and caused a rift in our relationship.  

To be honest, I'm not quite sure how much internal work my dad has done. The conversation last night only revealed anxiety on his part and a level of immaturity discordant with his actual age. And for the most part, the conversation was more for him than it was about me. I was able to process with Elizabeth today at work and we talked about how if my dad was to ever come to a point where he was completely honest with himself and objective historical reality, he would have to grieve the years he has lost as a father figure. For now, I see a man who is not emotionally able to reckon with the past. The person I see is a man who is still unable to fully face what he did or fully acknowledge the specific harm that he did to myself, my sister, and mother. And yet, I see a small snail's glide forward in his admittance of wrongdoing.

I'm not writing this post to demonize my father; in fact, I am who I am today not only because I am my mother's daughter but because I am also my father's daughter. To demonize him would be to demonize one part of myself. Rather, I honor the process that has brought me here. I am no longer the little girl who was at the mercy of her father's psychological and emotional abuse growing up. I am a woman who is healing and aware of the power of boundaries. I realize that this is a new chapter of my life, one where I have a say and can come to a point where I can accept my dad for who he is and engage accordingly given what I know of him and his level of emotional maturity. The ball is in my court; I am in control. And most importantly, the God who has reflected the untarnished image of father throughout my 30 years of life is ever by my side.