O' Father of mine...tell me where have you been?

As you may all be aware I had an abusive father growing up and recently I have been in therapy finally dealing with my past and as they say ‘facing my daemons’. I say ‘Had an abusive father’ because although he is still very much alive and very much a part of my siblings lives and very much still a typical abuser (nothing special about him) he is not a part of my life now and no longer effects me. I remember when I started therapy the main focus was how angry I was at him and how I got even angrier when people told me I would have to stop being angry to get past the abuse. How could I? I had a right to be angry! I would never stop hating him.

I started therapy 8 months ago. Last Thursday was my last session. Not because our time was up or because I couldn’t hack it, But because I’m, for lack of a better word… Fixed.

And much to my surprise I’m not angry anymore. Not at all. A little sad, yes. But not about my Father, I’m sad I never had a father. I plan on writing up a more conclusive post regarding my time in therapy and how I feel now but this will be a more revealing post (dark but I think with a positive edge) so I’ll save it for my (rarely used) Psychoanalyze This blog.

But to sum up I’m good now. Unaffected. Acknowledging. Embracing. Strong. Proud. Brave. I’m not going to put happy there because even before therapy I wasn’t a un-happy person, I was haunted. I’ve always been a happy, chin-up kinda gal. But I’ve finally put down that big bag of shit I was carrying around.

I am sad though, in a nostalgic kind of way. What bought this on was Vicky’s post over at Frugal Mom Knows Best regarding her Dad and it made me realize I never had what she is describing, and never will. Like a lot of people I suppose but I don’t wish MY father had been that Dad, because he no longer exists in that context to me. But I do wish I had a Dad.

Vicky wrote this:
I TRULY believe that anyone off the street can be a biological father, but it takes a real man to be a dad. A dad is someone who worries about you. A dad is someone who teaches you, guides you, protects you. A dad is someone who leads by example. A dad is someone who will never be too proud to tell his children he made a mistake. A dad is someone who will absolutely never turn his back on you, will never give up no matter how many times you push him away. A dad is someone who will have a glimmer of pride in his eye as they watch you get a diploma, and a glimmer of tears as he walks you down the aisle. A dad is someone who will love your children as much as he loves you, because they are a part of you. A dad is someone who worries about you and checks your oil/tires/whatever to make sure you are safe. A dad is someone who wipes away your tears and brushes back your hair to comfort you. A dad is someone who hugs you so tight you can feel the love. A dad is someone that makes you KNOW you matter to him.

Reading that again makes me choke up because it seems like a nice thing to have. I’m lucky I suppose that I had my late-grandfather who is and always will be the best man I’ve ever known and my hero, and now my father-in-law who fills the hole quite nicely, but there is still that hole and it makes me miss my Granddad terribly.

My mother, who I have a very strong relationship with, wasn’t always able to make me safe and I forgive her now and understand why and also thank her because her mistakes have made me a better mother, which I am eternally grateful for.

What is it they say? … You are what you make of yourself not what they make of you.

Whatever it is, one of the things I love most is being me. I’m really quite a rad person to be. I mean, I’d read my blog… you know? ;)

P.S. I dig Vicky. Btw. You should too... Though I'm sure you do already.

P.P.S I have been reading your blogs and I have made a promise to myself to make time to comment too. I've had little time on the net lately and other than a quick read through my blogroll I haven't been able to do much.