Pishposh71's Blog

Day 133: Daddie Issues and men as a girl growing up.

Posted in My Life thoughts,Re Inventing Me by pishposh71 on March 18, 2010

*****Edit:  I have decided that this will not be a single post as it looks like I have a lot to spurt out. So instead I shall divide it over several posts.  Remember that this blog was created for me and not your amusement so if you don’t like this then try again another day.  ******

So as I was attempting to go to sleep last night I started thinking about men and how their roles in my life have developed me into the person I am now.

So lets start with the obvious one and work from there.

My father was only in my life until I was 11 years old and took his own life.  In the immediate years to follow I put him on a pedestal, he was afterall my dead father.  As an adult I can see that he was not this great and mighty man I saw him as through child’s eyes.  He was a mere man, like all others just trying to make it in the world.  He worked hard, drank hard and was home very little.  He chased success, money and power.  My mother was right in her decision to leave him and had given him all she could and tried as hard as she could to fix him when the end came. I see that as an adult.  In my child’s eye though I still see this great man,  I believe had this and that happened he would have succeeded in obtaining all his goals but still would have lost us along the way.  So the story is set.

Jump ahead a few years, a new life, country, friends and family.  My mother immediately jumps into the dating pool.  She has several boyfriends along the way.  She was not a slut but committed to each of these men. I think it was around 13 that I started wondering what it was that men wanted.  I have a particular memory of a pair of size 5 woman’s heals I found in the guest room of a boyfriend’s house.  It was my room when we slept over.  I wondered how these shoes came to be here.  Funny that in my innocence I would think that there had not been other women here before my mom.  I remember taking those shoes, stealing them and carrying them home.  To me, I believe they represented the moment that I understood that “pretty things” like shoes are valued by more than just women. I wore those heals at school one day and they called my mom about it.  There was hell to pay for it but I felt like a pretty thing wearing them.

Over the next few years I was exposed to all sorts of men.  A man who holds a knife to my throat as he believes I have done wrong (this time I had not though) a druggie whom my mother has decided to play with (half her age) a cop who throws parties with drugs available, an old tenant who lives in our home who wants me to touch it for him, an uptight tenant who is hiding in the closet from his sexuality threatens to call the cops as my asthmatic breathing keeps him awake at night, there is an array of men who pass by my eye as I form opinions on the opposite sex.  All these men have no redeeming qualities and leave my father at the top on his pedestal in comparison.

The men up to this point in my life have been an influence in my life but I have not had a real relationship with any of them.  I have liked boys, even had the occasional boyfriend but nothing that allows for a further interpretation of men.

Tomorrow I will cover my teenage years up to early adulthood.

As always I wish you a wonderful day.


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