It’s Father’s Day, and usually it’s a day that depresses me with bad memories and bitterness. Thankfully, for the second year, I can see the word “father” and now associate it with kindness and love.

I know I’m not the only person who comes from a broken home. And I can feel that others have forgiven and forgotten their parents’ indiscretions (if indeed, there were any). But I can’t seem to do that. Not even with my 31 years and what I believe to be a compassionate heart.
I don’t care what kind of flack I get. I will get really personal with you, because if you know me, then straight up is the only way I can be.
I don’t give a f*ck if you stick your ting into a woman, produce a child, and somehow proclaim yourself to be a father.  Because once that child is born, you’re supposed to KNOW that love, devotion, and responsibility are paramount to that family’s growth and success. You do NOT (“hypothetically speaking”) bring your pregnant mistress into your family home to meet your children, regardless of how pretty she tells your youngest daughter she is.
I hear it all the time: blood is thicker than water. Respect your elders. Blah fucking blah. If you DISrespect me, my family, or the way I live my life, do you really expect daisies and lollipops in return, just because I so happened to acquire genes from a random man and woman one day so long ago?
Mothers are not automatically off the hook either, but that’s a totally different story.  I’m already flubber-faced and teary-eyed as I write this, and forcing myself to come back to the present and be grateful for what I have right NOW.
I have a wonderful child and I’m married to, I swear, the kindest man I could ever know;  one who loves our daughter and me, his wife, without bounds, who would never leave my side and protects all that is sacred within a real, loving family.
THAT is what Father’s Day is about. As I sit here and wipe my hideously snotty nose and red puffy eyes, hubby tells me that it’s been so long and I’m completely fine without him. This is true. But I don’t forget. EVER. How I wish one day I truly could. But look at what’s been done. I’ve been messed up for life.
Sometimes a girl really just wants her daddy.


  1. I hear that phrase time and time again too: blood is thicker than water. What does that really even mean? Calling someone “family” and saying that you have the same blood running through your veins is only part of it. There is an emotional aspect that goes so much deeper than that, and it deeply saddens me that people so readily assume the labels of “mother” and “father” but fall short when it involves anything beyond that label. There is the love and care and emotional depth that every single child craves. Some parents just don’t understand that, and it is the innocent child that suffers in the end.

    Sometimes, memories are painful and you wish you could forget, but perhaps it’s better that it will always be in the back of your mind to remind you that you have grown out of that life from the past and is the reason you have become stronger today.

    However, I am happy for you that you were able to find happiness in your cozy unit of three after everything. This happiness will be yours from now until forever. 🙂

    Sorry for being so long-winded…sometimes I get overly passionate about topics, such as this. 😛 By the way, I love your blog hehe. :)!!


    1. Please don’t apologize for the “long-windedness!” There are so many other places on the Internet you could’ve been, yet you took precious time out of your day to share your thoughts with me.

      I couldn’t agree more and I’m glad you share my views on this. I know of some people who probably want to whoop my bottom and tell me to be more respectful but “just because” will never be a good enough reason.

      I am glad you’re enjoying my blog and I will definitely keep the (mostly) silliness coming for a long time! I am getting hyped about Europe coming soon and I plan to write about preparation for the trip, so please stay tuned 🙂 Thanks always for the support!


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