Fatherless child?

This post is dedicated to those who are afraid to talk to me about their fathers because I don't have one. I love you guys truly, but trust me when I say that I forget that my father isn't in my life. You wonderful people tend to remind me about it.

My roommie is going through the same thing. I guess after being without something for 22+ years you have two choices:

1. Put it out of your mind and move on.

2. Freak out about it and long for it.

Guess which one I chose. G'won...GUESS! lol

This past Sunday was Father's Day. I remembered because one of my good friends is a father and we were talking about his fatherhood the night before. So that Sunday, my roommie (Kelly a.k.a. Smelly) and I were in the kitchen cooking when I turned to her and said, "Happy Father's Day Kelly!" She laughed and I giggled. Then we sat down and talked about it. Not about our sadness for our missing fathers, well in my case, I refer to him as my sperm donor, we talked about how people get nervous about talking to us about their experiences when we don't feel like we're missing anything. Then she said the most hilarious thing in the world...

"So I say to them, you don't have green eyes. Does that affect you?"

Granted green eyes compared to a missing father is basically nothing, but what most don't understand is, once you get to our age, it's exactly like that.

In life, I feel that God looks out for us. If we are lacking something or if we are going to end up lacking something, He fills that gap. I had two older brothers and 10+ surrogate brothers along the way. Each guy taught me something new about men. And when I say something, I mean the good, the bad, and dear goodness the UGLY! Because of this, I'm pretty savvy when it comes to dealing with the man-folk to the point that some of my brothers want to send their daughters to me when they hit 13 so I can teach them the tricks and how to avoid terrible situations. Most of my guy friends have also showed me that not all men are bastards. Some of them have shown me that some men are bastards (and not bastards in the sense that I am a bastard). lol

They give me hope. Right now, one in particular gives me hope because he loves his daughter so much and I get to see the pains that he goes through to secure a good life for her. He can't physically be with her and it tears him up inside. I try to comfort him but the fact that I can't makes me think, "Hey, if I'm really patient and pick the right guy to marry and procreate, then my children's fate won't match mine. *smiles*

So trust me when I say that when I wake up in the morning the first words aren't,

"Papa, can you hear me?
Papa, can you see me?
Papa can you find me in the night?"

And believe me when I say that before I brush my teeth, I don't look in the mirror and say,

"Papa are you near me?
Papa, can you hear me?
Papa, can you help me not be frightened?"

This isn't me being brave. This is me being truthful. Maybe I had issues with it when I was a kid, but honestly I can't remember nor do I want to try. I've had enough repressed memories popping into my head out of nowhere and after having those, I don't want anymore. lol

Hear me when I say, I'm okay. My sperm donor left me with two funky gifts that are in my face on a daily basis. One, my funky name. Two, my thick glorious hair. For that I thank him, but that's it. *smiles*

So, may I get back to my regularly scheduled life? Because I tend to forget that I'm missing a vital parental figure until some sweet person goes, "I shouldn't talk to you about this because you don't have a father."

Oh yea, I don't have a father. I forgot.

"Papa, how I love you...
Papa, how I need you.
Papa, how I miss you
Kissing me good night..."

*giggles*

Sorry, I had to use those lyrics. Last night before I went to bed, I decided to use this as my next blog topic and that song cracked me up. I started thinking about how folks thought I should react, so I pictured me throwing myself down to the ground and singing the words for "Yentl."

Guys, I'm okay. I swear. *winks* There aren't people pointing their fingers and hissing "Bastard" in my direction. Man, that would be funny if it did happen! *giggles*

Consider my lack of a father to be like a person without a leg. Eventually they move one and they learn how to adapt to the change in their life. If they are a high spirited person, acknowledge the fact that they are missing something but then they refuse to let that missing thing change their lives in a negative way. In most cases, they end up accomplishing things that they normally wouldn't if they were "whole."

I may not be emotionally whole, but that doesn't mean I'm broken...

So don't try to fix me and please don't pity me, okay? *smiles*

Okay Faithful Five (and the rest of you blog reading slackers!),

I must leave you now with a little:

Love, Peace and Hair Grease!

Trust

So...

I don't know about you guys, but I'm the type of person who takes trust seriously.

Blah blah blah, I have trust issues....

Blah blah blah, Past baggage...

Blah blah blah, Other psycho-babble...

Good, now you psychologists can leave me alone. :-P

Back to my topic:

I generally like to trust people. I give it easily, yet once it's mistreated, then it hurts me. Bad...

Even the little issues...

If my trust is violated, then it takes me a while to feel comfortable with that person again. Yea, I know that it must sound messed up, but it's just how I am I guess.

I'm kinda down because of this. Sure the issue was tiny but honestly, to be so careless about my trust...

Well it makes me nervous...

I really don't want to continue this. I have too many thoughts on my mind.

Love, Peace, and Hair Grease...