Last night, I explained to some co-workers that I wouldn’t be working tonight because I had a “Daddy/Daughter Dance.” One co-worker hilariously asked if I was taking my daughter or my girlfriend. Another chimed in with, “Yeah…cause I thought they went to the same school, don’t they?” Yes, it’s true…my girlfriend is younger than me guys, but it evens out, because I’m immature.
It’s crazy though, how much I’ve grown up since the divorce. Therapy has taken an insecure little kid, so unsure of himself and so dependent on humor to feel okay and turned him into a dad and a FILF and someone who doesn’t hate himself anymore. I doubt I’ll ever feel like a grown up (for example tonight I said something about an acquired taste and immediately said a little too loud and to myself “your mom is an acquired taste.” And it’s funny because she is.) but it’s the fucked up parts of me, the bruised little kid in me that has always made me feel small.
What if I’m not? What if there’s still hope for me as a human? What if I’m likeable? Like, yeah, sure it’s easy to get people to like me at the bar after a few drinks or at work by offering them a half-price lap dance, but what if my kids actually adore me? That’d be weird, wouldn’t it, after all that running from my dad I’ve done my whole life.
Tonight, I got to play the dad. And the only running my daughter wanted to do was towards me. It was really humbling. I caught myself just wanting to savor the moment. Riley won’t be 9 for long. Just watching her dance with her friends and be a kid without a care in the world…that was something.
My grandma died right before I turned 9. But, before she left, she made sure that my sister and I would be good and fucked up deep into adulthood. So, there was something significant to seeing my little girl getting to be a little girl…carefree, huge smile, screaming with the other girls that the DJ was playing some song that I was too old to know was cool.
My childhood was emotionless. I had to shut off the feelings to get by. Riley gets to feel. And tonight we both felt something special. It was crazy. Dancing with my sweet girl. Looking down at her with a huge grin on my face only to get in return an even bigger smile…her eyes lit up. She was so happy to be with her dad and she knows I love her to pieces.
She told me it was the greatest night of her life. And told her friend that I usually have to work, but got the night off just to be with her. That’s it. She felt special. And I guess the way I try to make her feel is what my therapist has done for me. I am fucking special.
I could’ve used a dad who smiled at me as I smiled at him, but I got something else. Still, being able to actually feel special these days, the same way Riley did tonight, it’s so sweet for me, because I’ve spent my whole life feeling like a fucking misfit. But, I fit man. I’m a dad. It’s kind of my thing.
No comments:
Post a Comment