On Fathering

Today is Father’s Day and I’ve been hesitant on whether I should write something on it or not. You see I wanted to write something flattering and inspirational about fathers, I did not want to come across as bitter and negative. But the truth is that my experience being fathered hasn’t been positive and I can only speak my truth about it.

My father left me when I was about twelve years old. I know he left us but I took it very personally, having always thought I was his favourite. So he left ME. When he first moved out we were told that he just needed space to study. It took us a while before we realised that he was not coming back. When he left he just disappeared, months would go by and we wouldn’t see him. I remember at some stage actually wondering if he was still alive but with black families those days as kids you never asked anything and old people never explained themselves to you. There was a stretch of a couple of years of not seeing him where I even considered writing to Khumbul’ekhaya, a television programme that helps people find their loved ones.

I spent the rest of my childhood blaming myself for my father leaving me, feeling that if I had been good enough his love for me would have compeled him to stay. I was really convinced that no matter what his problems with my mother were, if I was only just lovable enough then he would come back. But he neve did. Thee’s nothing more painful than unrequited love, especially by someone as significant as one’s parent.

So what has this meant for me as an adult? I think at some deep level I still don’t believe I’m lovable, specifically when it comes to romantic relationships. I mean, why would a total stranger truly love me when my own father wouldn’t! So as much as it hurts when a relationship ends, part of me is never really surprised. I am always anxious that the end will come and when it does come what hurts even more is the reminder of the abandonment by my father and the pain comes back. I probably cry more about my father’s rejection than I do over the actual guy I’ve been in the relationship with.

What confuses me is that I really think I have worked over my issues with my father. I have done the counselling, I have talked about him, written about him, I have basicallym learnt to live without him, without needing him and at some stages I have even convinced myself that I don’t care. But the truth is that I still get triggered and taken back to that young girl whose father abandoned her. I wonder if it ever stops. I’m in my 40s now, one would think I should be over him by now. But I guess time doesn’t heal all wounds, especially if the source of the wound still continues. My father is alive but he still continues to be elusive. He is still alive, that’s my challenge, he is still alive and just continues to chose to not chose us. To not chose me.

I know what you’re thinking, why don’t I just reach out and fix things? Well apart from the fact that he is the parent and I am the child, I believe I have tried. I spent my teens and twenties chasing after him like a desperate woman chasing after a man who doesn’t want her. And he knew that and would use it to his advantage. I would celebrate over scraps of attention and live off those for months on end. I created excuses for him and was very understanding and tried no to upset him too much. Why would you want to start a fight with someone you may not see again for another couple of months … or years?

But the questions would not go away and in my thirties I started asking again. Then I became the terrible person who is unforgiving, doesn’t want peace, always wants to drag up the past. The last incident which made me realise I should just walk away was in 2010. So I walked away, went into a deep depression, emerged telling myself I don’t care. And for a while I really didn’t care. Then he resurfaced a couple of years ago and I have watched myself go back to the little girl who wants to know why her daddy never loved her. But I’m also a stubborn grown woman who knows I deserve so much better than a man who will use my love for him against me.

So where am I now? Well I’m taking it one day at a time, literally. I haven’t spoken to him in months, not since my brother’s funeral. When we do speak I am very polite and respectful but I am just not prepared to open up my heart again, especially for someone who is not trying to fix things. His attitude now is of someone who needs us. He is now an old man and life hasn’t been good to him so I can see how we would be useful. But being needed is not the same as being loved. My Christian and my cultural guilt will not allow me to see him suffer though. So if he calls and he needs something and I can help, I do help.

I’ve gone back to challenges in my relationship with God as a father. I don’t need a God who is a father I need a God who is a God. If God is a father is a father then I might as well give up now because it means I can’t exactly rely on Him to have my back.

Now before you think my father is a monster let me reassure you he is not. And I don’t hate him, sometimes I wish I did. He is charming and affectionate and intelligent and handsome and sweet and can be very very loving. Those who meet him fall for him. Its just that all of those wonderful qualities are used to benefit him.

I read somewhere that we should accept the fact that some parents were not necessarily meant to parent but just to birth us. Meaning I should accept that he will not turn into the father I need but should rather find something to thank him for instead. So if he ever reads this blog or I get there with him, this is what I would like to say:

Dear dad, thank you for giving me life. I thank you for the first twelve years of my life where I caught a glimpse of what a father’s love is like. I thank you for the love of reading and writing which I got from you. I thank you for challenging me to always do better at school when I was a child. Thank you for the ability to speak in public, I know I got got that from both you and mom. I now actually make a living speaking. Thank you for instilling pride in me that I am a princess and for always reminding me of that every time you see me. I’m sorry I don’t know how to get over the childhood pain of you leaving, I’m really trying. I’m not trying to punish you. I pray that one day I will get to a place where it doesn’t matter, then maybe I can be the daughter that you need me to be. Until then, please be patient with me, God is still working on me. Happy Father’s day to you.