Believe it or not, I started my first five years or so as a Daddy’s Girl. My father used to hold my hand while walking, take me with him while working, talk to me like I was not just a child, and he would read to me. In short, he would show me off as his beautiful intelligent little girl. I know it’s hard for people to understand the dynamic. On one day, he was beating the shit out of me because I dropped his favorite toy. On the next day, he was taking me into his office and letting me play in his office. This was a favorite activity of mine because often my father would talk to me about his work and like I was his confidante. I could be a little girl for a short while and forget about the weight of the world I carried around on my shoulders. Of course, John would see these things and take out his aggression on me when we returned home. It was a real roller coaster ride for me as a child.
My father enjoyed showing me off to his friends. He would hold me hand and tell his friends what a pretty and smart child he had. My mother would say it’s a miracle my father could bond with a little girl since he really did not think women were very intelligent. My mother would tell me I have taught my father that women could be intelligent.
I loved my father very much.