A Father’s Daughter

There’s always that one parent in your life that you crave the affection, acceptance and love. As a child I would do anything for a kind word, a loving moment, any sign of affection, a “good job Nadine”, a “good night”, “see you in the morning”, or even a hug would have made me the happiest little girl in the world.  

My father was that parent for me. 

Instead. The reality…

My critical father. 

The one who never said I love you, never gave me a hug, never tucked me in at night, never congratulated me when I succeeded, never asked how my day was, never acknowledged the good marks I brought home or said how proud he was that I was first in our family to complete Bachelor’s of Science in University with honours. 

I guess, passive aggressive is the label people may call it today. 

He always seemed to point out the flaws along the way and his focus was always on my grades.

I never felt good enough. Specifically, I believed, I was never “smart enough”.

I always seek his approval but never got it or felt it. 

I was always the failure to the one parent I wanted the love, acceptance and praise. 

And so I rebelled in teenage years and into young adulthood.  Oh, how I hated on him hard. I threw back in his face all the anger I had inside and how little he made me feel. Then maybe then, he’d connect the dots and see for himself what I always wanted from him was simply approval. “Good Job, Nadine”.

I was too in my head and full of ego at that time to see how he stuffed down his emotions from fear of crossing an imagery boundary. It took me a long time to accept that I’d never get that dream. He, my father, just wasn’t capable of showing the softer side of his emotions.

If only I could know him now. How might things be different? How I may have seen him grow into his true light and not stay in the shadows of his own past. 

…or not… some people are just not meant to change and that’s okay too.

But my perspective has changed now and I see beyond his fear and see who he really was. A man limited by his own fear.

Funny isn’t it. 

Defined by this failure is what propelled and still propels me to achieve.

To succeed.

To do better.

To throw everything I have into what I do

…always seeking for approval and to be good enough.

To this day, it what makes me tick and motivates me. 

Although my father is gone these last 18 years he still motivates me to succeed. He is my driving force behind my motivation. To be good enough. To be smart enough.

And so today, as I sit here feeling like a failure once again… a memory of my father pops up on Facebook (perfectly timed as its Father’s Day Sunday) to remind me of his presence. To remind me that I can! 

Because although he is what motivates me from the perspective of that little girl, I know deep down he has always been proud of what I have achieved in this life. 

I feel him here with me now. 

Cheering me on. 

Proud of what his daughter has achieved. 

Words he didn’t have when he was alive. 

But I hear them now. 

I love you too, Dad. 

Thank you for your lessons in this life. 

I can’t wait for my hug.  

Until we meet again.