No matter how loving and sweet I am, no matter how much I seem to be one... I'll not ever be Daddy's Lil Girl.
I used to want to be a Ballerina Princess when I grew up. Never knew one didn't exist, but up until 4 years old, I thought I was one and aspired to be one all of my life.
Mom would buy my tutu and ballerina slippers; she'd let me go to all of my dance rehearsals. I had it in the bag.
I'll say it now, that there's nothing wrong with dreaming. Nothing at all wrong with it - at all.
There was lots of turbulence at home, it was becoming more frequent. I was too young to fully perceive it all, but I knew yelling meant something was happening.
I was asleep in my parent's bedroom, my usual nap place after Pre-K school. That day was different, awakened from what I thought was a nightmare. I could smell my Mom's perfume in the air, but heard an argument escalating. My Mom was concerned how come I was sent home lately with new outfit than what she had set out for me.
The yelling was so bad , I got up and went into the hallway where the argument was taking place. I just walked in the middle of them and called myself stopping it by yelling, "Stop the Argument!". Before I knew it he had pushed me down, right down the stairs, and lucky for me the winding around of my fall stopped at the second platform before it turned to the bottom platform.
I just knew it was a bad dream that I was going to wake-up from and not be on the floor awkwardly positioned to roll some more.
In the month to come, we visited grandma and grandpa's house a lot more. Sleeping in my pretty room, she'd made pink and white for me was something I'd never see again.
My new school was fun, no dance class but at least we still had nap time. I was learning more to get ready for the BIg K, yup Kindergarten and my baby cousin went there too.
One day in school they talked to us all about "Good Touch, Bad Touch" Wasn't quite sure what they were talking about until I heard the teacher's telling what a bad touch is. They asked if anyone has had a bad touch by anyone and I raised my hand.
I told my teacher about how every morning at the old house Mom would leave and my brothers too. He had to get me dressed , so I could be ready for school.
During their divorce, what was weird was that we had to speak to this person, a Counselor of some sort. Every time I had to speak to her privately, but never really liked to.
Sometimes, my Mom would ask when we were alone...Did he touch you in a bad way? I would just look away because I never knew how to tell her.
In time the bed wetting at nap time and at home stopped.
By the time I was 6, I was hardly able to remember many of the bad memories. Counseling early on had helped and living at my grandparents house was so much fun.
Seeing my cousins everyday and making friends on the block; all those good memories.
We went to church a lot...every single Sunday. It was fun because we'd always go see Great-grandpa, he was straight from Kingston, Jamaica and even in his old age smoked spliffs right in Senior Housing. My grandpa was from there too and they loved us all so much. They did so well telling us stories about the country and spoke Patois so much, we'd ask what are you speaking, African?
Turns out my grandpa on his side could speak it too. Except he was from St. Thomas. He had an accent I could barely understand and a scruffy texture to his voice. When I visited , I'd sit and just smile because I didn't want to tell that I didn't quite know what he was saying.
As I came into my teens years, I began to pick-up an the lingo as I realized that I too had a strong accent. people would say to me , "Where are you from, you have an accent?"
Once while visiting my other grandpa had told me he remembered the day I was born. He said he came to see me because he was so happy , as I was finally here. That I was sick with pneumonia and the doctors didn't think I'd make it, but he knew I would. He shamed his son saying, he couldn't believe that he wasn't there to see me born into the world, and thought that being out drunk and partying was more important than seeing such a precious child.
Visiting my other grandparents was fun too, I got to see my other cousins, aunts and uncles. But I really wasn't so happy to see him, but there were times where I tried so hard to be.
Still in all I loved my family , I enjoyed seeing them whenever possible and even though I didn't want to be as around them a lot; I still loved them.
I managed to put those things out of my mind by thinking of my new goals of becoming a teacher.
By then I was almost heading into Middle School and smiling was becoming my trademark.
One day walking home with my Mom on her day off, we were going home from my elementary school. A nice guy walked past stopping briefly to say hi to my Mom and me. He was like, "This must be your pretty daughter, she looks just like you." He did what just about everyone did, reach out and pinch the right cheek of my face... I hated that. I pulled back reluctantly, but she confirmed that I was and before I knew we were back on our way to my grandparents house.
While walking, she looked over and said, "Smile sweetie, you always look so mad. " I'd never thought of it that way. "It's polite to smile, especially if a polite person speaks to you." So from that day on which was way back in 1st grade, I had done my best to smile at people. To this day, anytime I smile, I sometimes think of that lovely day.
Can't lie, I've had some good days , but they've been bombarded by the not-so-good at times. That's how I'm packing these things up right now to bid them farewell.
It's so strange though, because these experiences have helped me be who I am today.
Growing up, learning about God helped me in so many ways. I recall the Preacher talking about a Heavenly Father, so when I used to tell myself I was a bastard and didn't have a Dad; I'd give thought to that phrase, "Heavenly Father" and would tell myself time and time again, that I did have a Heavenly Father. It took me time to truly comprehend how close my Heavenly Father has been to me all of my life thus far, but now I've grown wiser and continue to feel my Heavenly Father's presence.
In my adulthood, I thought that I'd be safer from the childhood memories because I thought I could just get married and have my own happy family.
Though I have my own happy lil family, I've yet to marry. Whenever my husbandman finds me... So with that comes the Single-Parent Life. Have had some bumps in the road, and none of which I'm ashamed to speak on.
But in the midst of my endeavors to take care of my family, I experienced my last draw with him in 2011.
I've , over the years, listened to him say horrible things about my Mom (even in her passing), listen to him brag and laugh about how he never wanted a daughter , how much fun it was to have been out drunk partying than to be there from my birth... Lies about me and even my daughters.
Yes, I've accepted it all because aside from my last name and the fact that he was my biological ; I had no real connection to him.
The day he assaulted me was the end of any opportunity to be in my life and from that day on, I knew that I'd not ever be Daddy's Lil Girl, but I'm so happy that I will always have my Heavenly Father; Thank you God.
