Lets Be Honest...

Is it okay for me to say that some of our daddies aint shit? If not, I would like to be the first person to address this issue.

Growing up in Seattle I dreamed of leaning on my daddy for my closest personal issues. Some that I thought would include boyfriend drama in high school, car problems, insecurities, and much more. This ideal representation I had in my head soon came to a halt when he pulled me to the side at the age of 12 and expressed to me how my life will go as followed:

“No man will ever want to marry a girl with braces and glasses, you will never find a man willing to marry you. You are not beautiful”.

And from there, you guessed it. Commenced my daddy issues.

My years of being a teenager were filled with anger and pain due to the recession hitting my family, parents splitting, and being stuck in high school filled with yt people that always presumed I was the “angry black woman.” During those years most of my anger was taken out on my mother. Some nights were filled with rage fused by being misunderstood by my parentals followed by a punch in the wall or three. While my dad sat on the sideline preaching that he was there for me emotionally but was never present. It wasn’t until my second suicide attempt that my father decided that I would live with him. Aside by many other emotional conditions he subjected me to, the living conditions were not as quite forgettable. With no heat and no type of entertainment, I was forced to dance in the mirror while Rihanna’s newly released album “Unapologetic” played to keep me company. Many nights, where rice and beans were my breakfast, appetizer, main course, and dessert, I was content with the idea of me and my dad being best friends forever due to this difficult time. I was simply satisfied with being broke.

As time progressed, we both saw it best that I would live with my mom for the remaining of the school year. The three buses and light rail rides home built much character out of me, making me an expert on averting my eyes to my business. Throughout this time, it was obvious that me and father would never going to get along. Many arguments presumed when of me trying to have an emotional connection with him, but it was seemed to me as our relationship would be most about track, school, college. The relationship between father and daughter became faint as he insisted that I would have to reach out via phone call. I don’t know what hurt more, knowing that my father will never accept me or this was the start of a long battle of wanting to be loved.

I have learned to accept my father and his wrong doings. To forgive and forget. A newborn empath such like myself, are realizing that they are emotional individuals trying to cope with handling this type of blessing. But when does dealing with toxic daddies end? How far are you able to deal with the same disrespect, only to be looked at as a trouble-making child who you can easily dispose of?

It wasn’t until this new chapter, moving and graduating, inspired me to sever ties to people who give me any form of unhappiness. Per usual trying to respectfully say that to my not so understanding father turned into a bit of an argument.

“The angry black woman who rejects discipline and blames her parents for her own faults is an immature role. You’ll never attract anyone with substance, and even if you do, it won’t last” the text said.

Now, when this text hit my phone at 11:17 a.m. my eyes quickly turned to a water fest, as my silk pillow soaked up every piece of my tears. Calling my mother soon after the crying had stopped she had no shame explaining to me how she felt about what the text said. As I poured into my mom, telling her “I am trying to be my best, I will never be good enough for any significant man in my life”. My thoughts quickly shot back to the conversation of when I was 12. Never being good enough.

The growing pains of adulting has taught me many things, but here is the most important one since this conversation took place. It is important to build boundaries around people who bring destructive energy to you. In this case, my first step was to block my father post texting battle. Not to be mean but, to protect my head space. There are many other things I have done just to ensure that these boundaries are set and never to be crossed but this is just the first precaution I took. Building boundaries around others, regardless if their family members or not, is critical when trying to move forward in a positive, love, and light life. I find it important to fish for the needs and wants of what you want out of friendships and relationships from others. If those key ideals are not something you approved of, set boundaries.


xoxo Jo

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Jolie Tate

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