Daddy's Little Girl

I've probably written a hundred pages discussing my relationship with my father. I've written about it for 14 years, spoken about it with countless friends, my mom, my brother. And after every single conversation, every single venomous word written, the only thoughts I have are of disgust and hatred. Disgust that someone so ignorant, so sexist and narcissistic is apart of me. Hatred that as much as I hate him, I in fact, hate myself for containing hate towards him. I should be forgiving and accepting that this man is my father. That in his own way, he does love me, maybe not for the person I am, but for the sole reason that I am his living heir to this world. He grew up in the 70s, when rock and roll and drugs were a prominent part of Americana. He met my mother at a singles club where Asian women can meet white Americans. They dated for less than 4 months before my mother became pregnant with me. They married after 5 months of knowing each other. Thirteen months later, I was in the world. Twenty two months after first meeting, my brother was born. Life was hard for my parents at first. They never really had a chance to see if they were compatible. To see if they could love each other before the stresses and hardships of raising a family got in the way. My mom grew to resent my father, not only for lack of emotional support he would show her, but his lack of commitment to earning enough money to support the family. He was always jealous that my mom, who went to vocational school, always made more than him. He resented that my mom, a strong, independent woman, wore the pants in the family. He felt it emasculated him, when really, he should have been grateful she was too much of a coward to leave him. He consistently talked down to people. He felt he was superior to the world and made it known. He always wanted to be in control of a situation, even though he rarely understood what was going on around him. He was socially inept, always said the wrong things at the worst times. My brother couldn't deal with the stresses of living at home, and turned to drugs at a young age to cope. I turned my anger inwards, and started to hate myself more and more each day. My parents eventually divorced when Iw as 20. I tried to mend things with him. I tried to accept him for the person he is. He's an *******. Has very few friends. Even resorted to getting a bride from China, just so he could control someone. This woman, who cant even speak English, is now his wife, married 1 year. Now here I am, 24 years old, and haven't spoken to my father in over a year. My brother was able to find some sort of peace with him. He got over the emotional and verbal abuse he was put through. But I haven't yet. I don't feel I ever will. I'll go on feeling this hatred, and resentment towards him for the rest of my life. And for the rest of my life, it will linger, this small, black cloud that will never go away.I hate that I can hate a person so much....but I do.
flipgirl6886 flipgirl6886
22-25, F
1 Response Jul 11, 2010

I unterstand how you feel. My father was a wife beater and child abuser. He's been dead for years. I hate him so bad. I want the pain and all the hate to go away, but it never does. It never goes away.