Does it come from a place of ignorance or from rejection? A place of not feeling welcome, or a place of not connecting with the prominent male figure in your life? Do THEY know? Can they sense that you feel this way? You think, maybe if I was born with a penis then everything would be easier. I could play baseball with him or enjoy beer and watching Baywatch with him. I could at least relate to him and him to me. We could share similar laughs and pant size. He would actually hear my voice when I spoke. He would WANT to know how my day was and look forward to seeing me walk through the door. Greeting me with a smile and one of those half hugs that only men share, one arm around my neck and the other pseudo punching me in the stomach with good humor.
But if he had it to do over, he would have only had two kids, two boys who love their daddy and love getting horse-back rides on his broad back. Then came along the first girl in 50 years. Well it's about time the x chromosome had some competition, a shake of the family tree's limbs. Ah here's another apple, the apple of someone else's eye. Maybe she'll find favor in someone else's heart and hands. I'm sure someone will love her. But me? I don't have time, what with raising two strapping lads. They need their father time, she has her mother who can look after her.
Then the summer of '96 came to pass. During the summer of '96 he left our house to find work in Marin, that's when she beat me. She couldn't handle taking care of four kids, one of which was a hormonal teenager boy who threw chairs at the wall. So, one night after dinner after I had been out all day playing with the day care kids, I refused to eat my dinner so she sent me to my room. Half an hour later she storms in, raving with anger in her eyes. She had a leather belt in her hands and vengeance painted her red face. She grabbed me by the arm, pulled down my pants and wailed every single ounce of anger and terror onto my small behind. After that, I couldn't sit in the school chairs for a week without pain. I still have the scars, one on each cheek. Why did she do it? Why does my father choose to alienate himself from his daughter? I will never know but I will only have the constant reminder of what not caring can do to a girl.
But if he had it to do over, he would have only had two kids, two boys who love their daddy and love getting horse-back rides on his broad back. Then came along the first girl in 50 years. Well it's about time the x chromosome had some competition, a shake of the family tree's limbs. Ah here's another apple, the apple of someone else's eye. Maybe she'll find favor in someone else's heart and hands. I'm sure someone will love her. But me? I don't have time, what with raising two strapping lads. They need their father time, she has her mother who can look after her.
Then the summer of '96 came to pass. During the summer of '96 he left our house to find work in Marin, that's when she beat me. She couldn't handle taking care of four kids, one of which was a hormonal teenager boy who threw chairs at the wall. So, one night after dinner after I had been out all day playing with the day care kids, I refused to eat my dinner so she sent me to my room. Half an hour later she storms in, raving with anger in her eyes. She had a leather belt in her hands and vengeance painted her red face. She grabbed me by the arm, pulled down my pants and wailed every single ounce of anger and terror onto my small behind. After that, I couldn't sit in the school chairs for a week without pain. I still have the scars, one on each cheek. Why did she do it? Why does my father choose to alienate himself from his daughter? I will never know but I will only have the constant reminder of what not caring can do to a girl.
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