My mom called me a couple days ago. I prepared myself to hear the usual updates on the father and his everlasting alcoholic condition.
“I confronted him again about not talking to you. He said that you made it very clear you didn’t want to talk to him. So I asked, ‘Are you sure about that? Because from what I understood she wanted you to contact her when you were ready to stop lying.’ Then he said to me, ‘Well haven’t you thought maybe I’m not ready?'”
There was a droning pause between us. She knew that hit me hard in the gut.
“I told him he was selfish. I said, ‘Really? You’re willing to risk losing your daughter because you can’t stop lying?’ I told him that my opinion hasn’t changed, and it won’t until he makes it change. Then he got down on his knees and begged me, as if that was going to change anything.”
I always knew that the Latino Machismo attitude was very prevalent in my father’s personality, but never did I think it could get this bad. I almost convinced myself that he honestly didn’t understand my long email back in January, or my straight-forward texts messages. But he had. He understands them to the core and still refuses to do anything about it. He literally admitted he has been lying, and also stated that he isn’t ready to stop lying.
My doubt in my decision to stop talking to him almost took over. I was so close to giving him a call to tell him how stupid he was and that I missed him.
Something I have learned from this that I never realized before: my “Daddy Issues” are a lot more serious than I had thought. In romantic relationships, I always end up coming back. I don’t stay true to my word and always hope the second time around, things have changed. They never do. My last girlfriend happened this same way, and this guy I’m now interested is going the same direction. I let him in again and I probably shouldn’t have. People don’t take me seriously, they think I’m too much of a softie and I’ll come running back. I usually do, but it’s not because I’m a “softie,” it’s because I always see the good in people.
That ability to see the good in people has been skewed to mean that I’m naive and too optimistic for my own good. Recently, the man I’m interested in now (and again) said that the first time around he saw “red flags.” I asked him what he meant by that, and he said I was naive and optimistic. This assumption that I’m naive drives me crazy, and makes me laugh at times. It usually comes from a lack of actually knowing my experiences, a lack of understanding how my Mother raised me to be, but most importantly (and more oftenly) the fact that my optimism scares the shit out of people that fear failure. It leaves me questioning who is the one in the situation that is truly naive. I’m not scared to fail, because that just proves one way things shouldn’t be. I’m scared of never trying, then laying on my deathbed cursing at the moon and the stars “Why didn’t I just try? What the hell did I have to lose but maybe some more heartbreak?” I can get over heartbreak, I have before.
And I will again.