In my own words

In my own words…

 

It’s funny how I’m supposed to write something for my reading group.  Here I am thinking, “What’s going to be?” I have a lot of anger, too much inside my head, but a little knowledge on how to present the ideas. It’s easy to say, hard to do…then this language and culture barrier can be very tricky.  I’m not scared, though.

It's been years since the last time you landed your hands on me.  I still remember that day... it was a Friday afternoon in Mayaguez, Puerto Rico.  You arrived knocking on the door like I was one of your suspects, and you were ready to make an arrest. Couple years later, I understood that you guys tend to knock on the door that way every day, after I started to date my girlfriend Ann. The irony…she is a cop just like you.  You grabbed me by my neck and told me you’ll kill me.  I couldn't breathe for couple seconds, I got scared.  In the meanwhile mom just stood there... I think that hurts me even more that day.   Here is a big six foot tall, two hundred sixty pounds man grabbing a five- four foot girl by the neck, pulling her up and while he is pulling he is punching her at the same time.  I’m trying to get your hands off me, but you are too strong for me.  Addition to that you have police training that I don’t have at that time.  Mom is not saying anything because we are all scared of you.  Just like I’m fearing for my life at this moment, I know she is too, but she is powerless. She has been her whole life, so how can she save me?   

Don’t get me wrong! I love my mom to death, she is My Everything.

 At that moment I’m asking myself what I did so bad that you come to my house and threated my life. What I did to you to hate me so much. That hurt me forever because at that point I was only nineteen years old. It’s been eleven years since that incident, and I tried every day to forgive you, but I can’t forget, and when I can’t forget and I think about it…sometimes in my darkest moments I wish you’ve kill me that day.

 Instead of “Hello”, I only heard you say "You better break up with her". You were furious, because I was dating a girl.  You have always say you don't have a "gay daughter", you have always been ashamed of myself.  I can't control my emotions, I can't change who I am. In my thirty years of life, I have been nothing but obedient, responsible, a grown up when I was actually a teenager. I heard how you talked about our cousins and uncles, so I stayed out of trouble, no drugs, and no parties, nothing that a normal teenager would do, because I wanted your approval. I served my Country for 8 years, and while I did that I got hurt and couldn’t finish the 20 years like you wanted me to do. I got medical discharged and to you that was a disappointment, but to me it was hurtful, but not only because I couldn’t met your expectations, also because every day when I look at myself in the mirror I see failure, even more when I see my scars and even when I look at my knee.  

 I always felt like I wasn’t good enough for you. I finished my bachelor degree while I was in Active Duty.  Now that I look back, I did my major in Criminal Justice just like you did.  I always do things the right way, because I want to set an example for my brother and sister, but in the back on my head I’m doing things because I want your approval.  I believe in GOD, I have a lot of faith, I have integrity, and I have decent friends.  I have always try to impress you, and today I asked myself, “WHY IN THE HELL, DO I NEED YOUR APPROVAL?”  I don't need your OK. I don't need your partial love. I don't need you to be proud. I only need to cut those chains that are holding me back, and that are getting the best of me, and  to tear them down and love you for who you are, but I don’t need to live your life, because you already have one. You are the reason of my anger, you are my trigger to this feeling of rejection, failure and rage. Maybe one I will be able to forgive you, and say “Is ok, Dad! It was tough love. Shit happens.”

One thing, I’m sure is that I will never be the same, you have left wounds in my life, and you have scar me forever.  Your words are like knives, your hands are like blocks... You have damaged me forever... I can only fix myself to the point I can make it all work again, but I will never be new again.

I hate you, I love you, I miss you... You are my dad, and I can only say I wish you the best, and if you ever decided to accept me and hopefully understand that I'm still that same daughter God gave you 30 years ago, and understand that my sexuality is just a part of me, but who I am is so much than just that, then I will be here waiting for you.

 

att. Dindy