Butterfly Kisses

I remember exactly where I was the day I found out the man who was raising me was not my father. I was sitting on the dryer in our laundry room talking to my mom. I was about 8 years old, and I remember feeling RELIEVED. It meant that the jerk who was always picking at me, screaming at me, hating me, wasn't my dad. It explained why my little sister got away with everything, and I got hit for asking "huh?". Yay! This guy wasn't my dad, and my real dad was out there somewhere and someday he would find me and I would get my Brady Bunch life. Unfortunately, I was stuck with the jerk for several more years until he finally pushed my mom too far with his drugs, cheating and abuse to both her and myself.

I was 12 when he left, and I stopped wetting the bed that very night. Needless to say, it had been pretty bad. Fast forward a few years, and he finally got clean and sober. One of his steps was having to make direct amends to me. I remember being about 14, and mortified at the idea of him confessing or reliving any of the crap he put me through, so I eagerly told him I forgave him rather than hash out all that ugliness. He was grateful for my forgiveness and I was just grateful we didn't have to talk about it.

Forgiveness is a funny thing. Even as a 14-year-old kid I realized the gravity of that word. Now that I gave my forgiveness I couldn't just take it back or have issues with what had been done or I would be a big ol' hypocrite. Because I said those words I had to honor them no matter what it took. What it took for me were long periods of not speaking to him while trying to work things through in my own head. I was always polite, but avoided him if at all possible. I've seen a few therapists for different reasons over the years, but it always comes back to this one relationship that would shape all my future relationships: the relationship between a father and daughter.

I read somewhere that boys generally have higher self-esteem than girls. Boys know that they are handsome, smart and special because we as mothers tell them they are. Of course they don't know why they know it, they just do. We start instilling it at birth in our boys. What about our girls? Moms can tell us as daughters that we are beautiful all day long, but it doesn't sink in or get believed like when we hear it from our Daddy. Who can blame them really? Women are so obsessed with how we look and will do anything to make ourselves look better, it all seems so fake and insincere. Little girls need to hear from their Daddy that they are beautiful just the way they are. Unfortunately, with more and more kids being raised in single parent homes with little to no paternal involvement, our little girls are missing out on their first love: Daddy.

A little girl's first love should definitely be her Daddy. He is the standard by which all other men in her life shall pass or fail: Daddy will always love his little girl no matter what. He will protect her, provide for her, spend quality time with her, never hurt her, cherish and adore her.

It's taken me many years to truly forgive the man I called dad for so many years, but I'm a work in progress. I will admit that whenever My Love takes his daughter outside to ride bikes, push her on the swing or play in the sprinkler, the little girl inside of me is a little jealous thinking of her own broken childhood and the Daddy she always wanted but never got, but soooo happy that his little girl gets to have an amazing first love in her father.