To the person I call dad

 I needed you to be my dad

not a goddam predator

not someone I was afraid of...

 

 Not a person who crossed

every boundary I'd ever set,

leaving me feeling without

any privacy, any trust.

 

I needed you to love me,

not threaten to kill my dog

when I didn't want to get in

the car, the morning after...

 

I tried to kill myself.

 

 

Not use any means to control me,

not make me give you my money,

because I had trouble waking up at seven.

Instead of realizing, a growing brain

needs more sleep.

 

I needed you to put aside

your fucking pride, and love me.

I needed you to teach me

my stubbornness is a strength,

when to use it, when to let it go.

 

Not try to beat it out of me.

I had to learn that all on my own.

 

I needed you to realize

that I'm my own individual,

not your submissive, obedient thing.

I only wanted you to stop;

     stop trying to control me,

               stop being a fucking creep,

and love me.

  

I wanted you to be proud of me,

not because I was pretending

to be the perfect child,

but because you are proud

of me, of who I am. 

 

Stubborn, unwilling to just submit,

can't you just be proud of me

without trying to change that?

I've had to learn on my own,

you were supposed to

be my father, be my dad.

 

And I don't mean proud of me,

like telling everyone of

your daughter's company,

and then yelling at me, 

because I'm not perfect.

Punishing me because

you thought I rolled my eyes

at you.

I want you to be proud of me,

always, even when;

I have a bad day, I make a mistake.

You made me afraid of messing up,

afraid of how people around me

might perceive me,

afraid that I'd be punished

for the smallest mistake.

Sometimes, you were a good dad.

But those times were

few and far between,

and the pain you caused me,

overshadowed them all.

You expected me to be a

responsible, grown adult

at fourteen, fifteen, sixteen.

I moved out at seventeen

because it was all too much,

but I was still a child.

I could never trust you,

although I wanted to.

I'll never forget being woken

spanked, in bed, because I forgot,

at merely four years old,

that the woods were off-limits.

 

You didn't give me understanding.

You didn't realize that no child

has constant memory,

of everything they've ever been told.

 

You didn't stop to think how

waking me up, like that, 

me having no idea,

what I'd done,

        would scar me 

 forever.

 

 

I have both loved and despised you,

feared and looked up to you.

 

Fuck you for letting your pride

get in the way of being

an understanding, loving father.

 

Fuck you for letting

your desire to control those you could,

come before your children.

You weren't the dad

           I desperately needed,

                and I wish I believed

                           that you'd change,

 

but I can't.

I can't give myself

that hope.