unknown...
Alex Walker5 unknown:
So, what’s the deal with your relationship with your own dad...
What exactly are we even supposed to be thanking him for...
So, what exactly is everyone's beef with him...
Do any of you ladies deal with that whole unknown complex... you know, those weird sexual fantasies about your dad...
So, I've been thinking about this lately... whether guys actually deal with that whole Oedipus complex thing... like, if it's a real psychological hurdle or just something people throw around...
Ever had those moments where you just wanted to kill your dad...
Is your dad an authority figure, a buddy, some total stranger, or just someone you can't help but look down on with pity... or is he actually full of love for you, and you feel that same deep connection back to him... |
It hasn't been that long since my dad brought out my old diary, like, really ancient... he stumbled upon it while he was clearing out the attic, all dusty and filled with the messy handwriting of my eight-year-old self. I'm positive he read those childhood ramblings because he looked at me with this bittersweet, playful expression and told me I still had plenty of room left to write... I won't go back into my eight-year-old headspace right now, but there was one part in there where I mentioned how I had a huge falling out with XY just because she kept picking on me and saying I was acting all high and mighty with my dad... She was always such a troublemaker, even though she was only seven, just a few months younger than me... 😬)
Pride... that’s really the core of everything I feel when I think about my dad. And then there's this vision of who I am, exactly like he saw in me—he always told me there was still so much more left for me to write, and that belief, that constant support... it meant everything. It’s this deep love mixed with those tiny little moments that you don't realize matter until they circle back to hit you out of nowhere. Like when I was fifteen and flying across the country on one of those long trips, he just stood there waving at the plane for forever after it had already disappeared into the sky. I didn't see it myself, obviously, but people told me about it later. They even asked my mom if he was super attached to me, and she was telling that story again last year, and one specific detail just caught me completely off guard... I actually broke down crying right then and there, which was weird because I'm not really the type to lose it like that. We definitely have that bond, sure, but he also pushed me toward being independent. I remember being only eight years old and taking the subway by myself to get to practice, just because he had this absolute faith that I could handle things on my own and do them right. I'm just really grateful for that...
There were issues—plenty of them. And honestly, I don't hold any grudges anymore. I had to step away the second that protective instinct he had started feeling less like love and more like he was suffocating me... In my rebellion, I made some calls I probably wouldn't have made if he’d just let our relationship breathe and grow naturally. He wanted to keep me as this little girl he could direct and guide forever, forgetting that he actually raised a fighter who knows how to handle herself and take charge... But he gets it now, and everything between us has finally shifted into something real.
When it comes to those complexes and that whole situation with ExxonMobil, I guess you could say they played a role in the parts of my life where my dad was my absolute hero... back when I was still trying to find my own footing and build up some actual confidence by just looking at him as an example. But in the more vulgar sense? It wasn't really ever there...
Honestly, I don't know if I actually wanted him dead or what, but he knew exactly how to push my buttons... there were moments when I felt like I just wanted to beat him senseless until he vanished from the face of the earth, and then once that anger finally passes, I'm right back to being fine again...
My relationship with my dad has gone through so many different chapters... first that childhood phase where he was basically a superhero, then moving into being super critical of him, followed by all that teenage rebellion, and finally reaching this long-term transformation where I’ve come to terms with the fact that even though he isn't this flawless mythical figure from a storybook, he really did just want what was best for me. When he tells me that I'm a better version of him, I think he feels like he actually succeeded in his mission. But I always tell him I'm not "better," we're just different... and even though I'm his daughter, I'm not some extension of him. My roots go in different directions, my values and my worldview are my own, even if he definitely left his mark on who I am today...
I’m just so incredibly grateful to him for raising me to be such a little fighter and teaching me that I’m the only one holding the reins of my own life... that I shouldn't give any weight to anyone else's words, unless it's the voice of my own conscience. He isn't even religious, but honestly, he taught me more about faith than anyone else ever could... about having true belief in myself and actually building the person I want to be...