"Share a time when you felt a deep sense of rejection" This is a prompt for the writing workshop from Josie at Sleep is for the Weak. Although I know I am late to participate, when I read it, it instantly resonated deep within me. The feeling of rejection is too familiar to me. This feeling is sneaky and not spoken. If mentioned it is denied. I am wrong, I over analyse and this was never intended to make me feel like this.
My Dad rejected me.
He didn’t leave the house when I was young, not like that. He was at home, but was never really there. He wouldn’t sit with me, read me a story, help with my homework or tell me I was pretty.
Instead he would tell me to stop eating chocolate or I would end up with a “fat ass”, which I did eventually. He would deny me the attention I was craving for and give it to others. These others were everyone but mainly my cousins, his students or strangers. Things would be taken away from me to be given to others, because you see what others would see in him would be more important and flattering to him.
In his eyes nothing was more gratifying than a nephew who believed he was a hero because he was kind to him and made him laugh. That person didn’t know that at home he’d make me cry.
His friends' children loved telling me how lucky I was to have such a great dad. And it is true, out of the house he was amazing. My dad was gorgeous, charming and fun to be around. He would move mountains to help others.
My dad was an amazing teacher. Every time I attended his lessons, I was full of pride and admiration for this man who would manage to captivate his audience and gain respect as well as admiration. I was HIS daughter and proud to be. But things were different once in the confided space of our home. He would shut down, couldn’t stand noise and never talked to us. There were two people in this man and he couldn’t love us the way we wanted him to. I craved to be my daddy's princess but that never happened.
He went through a lot in his life and no one taught him how to love, so he didn’t know how to love.
When I grew older and left home, my parents got divorced. It was the beginning of a long series of ugly fights and arguments. Some of them we got involved in. Then came even more rejection.
My dad decided not to talk to me for more than 5 years and when I sent him a letter to announce the birth of Elliott he never replied.
My sister who had also been out of touch for a while was talking to him back then. She quizzed him as to why he never replied and his answer was that I was no longer his daughter and therefore my baby wasn’t his grandchild.
It did hurt.
I thought I was done with the hurt and the guilt. I had moved on. It came back to hit me in the face then. How could someone who was sharing flesh and blood with me could say this? I was his child and I had just had one. I knew what loving your child meant and if he couldn’t love me, why?
Less than eighteen months later he did it again when Victor was born. Now not only he had rejected me, but he had now rejected both my children too.
I cried a lot…
Then one day a few months ago I received a call. It was him.
I was shocked but we talked as if we had last talked the week before.
I felt numb and disorientated. I had a new life and one that didn’t include him in it. As far as I was concerned my dad was gone for good.
We are slowly building a relationship that is completely different from the one we have ever had, but there is always the worry that he will let me down again, so I find it hard to allow myself to love him again…
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