I was My Fathers Daughter. Not that long ago really but it seems like another lifetime. When I look at these photo's of me as a baby with my Dad I feel a real sadness. A sadness for that innocent baby who adored her Daddy and who's Daddy at the time adored her back.
A baby who had no idea that in time her perfect Dad would totally discard his children like empty crisp packets. A baby who didn't know that her Daddy's lack of love would cause her so many insecurities later in her life and how she would spend her teenage years thinking she had done something wrong, so bad that she didn't deserve to be in her Fathers life. A baby who had no idea of the pain this wonderful Daddy would cause her and how he would be the one to break her heart. A baby who didn't know her Daddy would turn his back and walk away...
I am a forty year old woman. A woman who last had quality time with her Daddy 17 years ago. I am a woman who looks at that woman seventeen years younger and can see the happiness in her eyes as she dances with her Father. I see the hope in her eyes. The hope that maybe...just maybe her Daddy does`love her after all.
I will be a woman who no longer lives with that hope. A woman who has realised she has lived a lifetime without the love of a Father. A woman who does not need a Daddy who can not love, who can not care for the children he created. His flesh and blood. A woman who has the love of so many others. Others who deserve to be loved back by a woman who loves herself.
For Josies writing workshop this week I chose prompt 1. I was, I am, I will be