The day I’ve been looking forward to has finally come! I have long thought about completing my book, mailing a copy to my dad and the look on his face when he opens it! How glorious. How triumphant. How powerful.
So why do I feel deflated? I feel scared. I have reached out to him and it feels wrong. Like I want something from him.
I have grown so much and taken my power back. I own my life and my feelings. I give advice to others who struggle with their pasts.
Why do I feel so small? When I really ask myself why I’m feeling this way, I instantly see my inner 10-year-old. She is shaking. When I let myself feel her, I cry big, hot tears.
She says “But wait, it’s Daddy.” She wants to protect him and his feelings. Can it be that she still feels like it was her fault and he shouldn’t get so much blame?
Through my tears I look at the picture on my desk of her.
She’s so sweet and vulnerable. I try to tell her “He will always be your Daddy and I know you love him. He was bad to you though. It was all his fault. He called you his girl, but you were not his to do whatever he wanted! He didn’t own you.” I’m crying harder now.
I’m trying to let it flow. I’m the adult who can comfort the child. But I’m also the child who needs comforting. I go back and forth. I listen/feel and let the tears run down my neck. Then I blow my nose and smooth my hair and tell myself that it’s Ok.
I need to get it together. I need to get that package to the post office today. All I want to do is get back in bed. I understand these feelings. I don’t need to bottle them up. I’m at home and can let myself cry until I feel strong again.
What do I need? I need to realize that I’m not reaching out to him for anything. I am merely fulfilling a promise to myself. I promised that I would write the book about my journey and send him a copy before he dies. For my own satisfaction.
I wrote him a note inside the front cover:
This is Good-bye. I don’t want to hear from him. I don’t expect to.
He has admitted his “terrible obsession” and apologized. That’s more than most abusers do.
But there’s nothing that he can possibly say or do to take away the harm that he caused.
I have to give my inner child the love, protection, understanding and freedom that she craves and deserves. I can do that.
I feel better. I smile at the 5th Grader in the frame. She smiles back.
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