To be... or not to be... jealous?
| "Daddy's Girl"
Oh, how I wish! And not in the sense you may think. Not because I want a father or any kind of craziness like that, but because, well when you really sit down to think about it... why not? Why not be THAT girl, the girl who has it all and simply by batting her darling eyelashes at her dear daddy and saying "please"?
I mean, seriously, how did a father and daughter's relationship become so misinterpreted? My own father kept himself, amazingly, invisible from me practically my entire life so it's safe to bet I'm not talking about myself here... spoiled, rich or happy. More appropriately, I have no clue where to even begin in relating to that scenario. Me, spoiled? That's practically like calling me a millionaire... hysterical to the point of possible loss of bodily functions. (HA!) And yet... given the opportunity... well, it's food for thought.
But when did we begin believing this? At what point did someone wake up and think "you know, if a father and daughter have a close relationship, she must be a spoiled little rich girl?" How did it become so twisted that it's manipulated those of us less fortunate against THAT girl?
If I were completely honest, I would have to admit that, were my situation reversed, I would definitely be calling on my daddy-o in my desperate financial crisis. I can imagine the melodramatic scene now... my life in ruins, struggling to pay my bills with a baby on the way and married to a man I'm not 100% positive I'm still in love with. Can we say girl wishes she were a daddy's girl? Absolutely! Daddy-o, please, please, please make my problems go away!!
Sometimes I like to fantasize about how differently my life may have turned out had my parents not divorced when I was five years old. I like to believe that all would have been beautiful rays of sunshine in my world, with flowers blossoming into brilliant, bright colors as fascinating as the waves slamming against the sand, but who am I kidding? My parents hated - and I mean hated - each other.
No kidding, for like, years after the divorce they remained entirely unable to be civil to one another, including in the presence of my brother and I. The heartbreaking, pitiful, useless truth of a dysfynctional family. Put me in a room of angry, distant, cool or an aloof family and I can immediately relate, sympthathize and even understand practically every moment. However, put me in a room with a happy, well-loving and close family, the whole hugging and kissing scene included, and instant withdrawal.
Literally I have no idea how to react or respond to a family like that. They seem alien to me, almost crazy... as irrational and bizarre as that may sound. Talk about ironic? The dysfynctional child says to the normal child... "You're crazy!"
Now I'm losing it...
Back to the weird, normal family. If I could retreat to a corner, awkward and unsure, there could be no better escape for me.
Yes, yes I know. You'd think I would have outgrown that childlishness by now at 25? But truly, who makes these rules? Who is the person able to define craziness or put labels on crazy or determine what age limits are unreasonable and ridiculous?
I'd like to know so I can punch them. Just once, that's all.
One teeny, tiny little whack across the head. Not to prove any point... no nothing as serious or dramatic as all that. Just to make myself feel better. Why else?