Nancy Hernandez43 said:You might feel like you aren't that tough, but honestly, with a dad like yours—who was clearly your biggest cheerleader through everything—you probably learned how to be resilient without even realizing it.
Now I’m starting to think that, maybe.
Exactly. I guess I just never picked it up...
My dad was incredibly overprotective growing up. I realized a while ago that it mostly stemmed from the fact that his own father wasn't really around for him—he missed out on having an active father figure entirely during his childhood. I guess he was just trying too hard to compensate for his own past by constantly stepping in to correct every little mistake, probably thinking he was fixing his own upbringing through me.
He raised me to be completely insulated from reality. Looking back, that sense of security he instilled in me feels incredibly forced and artificial. It was this constant, overwhelming idea that nothing bad could ever happen to me, and that nobody would ever be allowed—or even capable—of touching me.
I just need to give him a call.
It’s always been this way, and I guess it’ll stay that way too.
Looking back, I guess he fed my sense of entitlement a million times over. It wasn't even that he failed to set boundaries; it felt more like he actually wanted me to turn out exactly this way.
It wasn't some primitive or old-school upbringing. I was raised with a pretty modern, democratic mindset. In my family, I always had an actual seat at the table when it came to making decisions. People actually bothered to ask for my input—what I thought, what I wanted, how I felt—and they usually took it seriously. I suppose you could say I’ve been treated that way since I was a kid.
bitnaEven my mom—who’s an educator—used to get into arguments with him about it. She’d tell him he was going too far, that he couldn't just be this best friend who fulfills my every whim. She felt I actually needed him to be a parent instead.
fatherI guess if I actually need to get this done—
authorityFair enough.
on He was an authority figure to me, too. A real authority, I guess.
I guess authority—which I’ll probably figure out eventually once I actually get through college—doesn't really stem from fear. It comes from something else entirely.
For instance, I’ve never actually been hit once in my life. Not even close. He basically made it a rule for everyone—my mom, my grandmas, pretty much everybody—that nobody was allowed to discipline me.
What kind of... By using physical force.
You aren't going to be able to work her like a pack mule. I still remember when he absolutely lost it on my grandma after picking me up for our beach trip. I started bawling the second I saw him, screaming that she’d been hitting me—though, to be fair, she’d only given me a quick swat on the backside a few days prior because I was being stubborn about eating my green beans. He ended up getting into this massive blowout with her, and there I was, just clinging to his pants and enjoying the show.
He ended up taking me out to his place on the lake, where he spent the entire summer trying to teach me how to water ski. I was just a little kid back then—pre-school age, really—and he had me attempting it on full-sized adult skis. I suppose he just liked hearing himself laugh and yell while I struggled.
Nice work. While I was falling.
He actually taught me how to ski before I even mastered my multiplication tables. He also managed to pull me out of piano lessons—which I absolutely hated anyway—and signed me up for tennis instead. Then, he’d end up ducking out of his meetings just to catch my practices. He'd just sit there on the bleachers, shouting from the sidelines.
Nice job.Whether that beverage hit me square in the face or just missed by a foot or two, I guess it doesn't really matter.
It seems like you might have cut off your message there. I'm not quite sure what you were trying to say, but if you want to finish that thought, I'm all ears.
Nice work. He was yelling so convincingly that I actually thought I was winning...
I guess he was just trying to instill some of that self-confidence and security in me—the kind of stuff he clearly lacked growing up. Maybe he was just overcompensating for his own childhood.
I think that once he realized just how much his own upbringing had messed him up, he overcompensated by trying to make sure I wouldn't go through the same thing. He went overboard trying to mold me into some kind of "normal" person... but apparently, a few things still slipped through the cracks. Some of the stuff that was actually supposed to make me resilient enough to handle things... well, it seems I missed out on those parts.
his Strength isn't exactly a reliable foundation to build on, I guess.
And so I don't have to feel this way anymore...
So, what now?
----------------------------------------------
I posted this about a week ago... Back then, he was still conscious. I eventually decided it felt a bit selfish to keep dragging these thoughts through this thread—I didn't want to drown everyone else in my own nostalgia when there are people here dealing with much bigger issues.
Now my dad... he’s just sleeping...
That's what they tell me, anyway, since he actually banned me from coming over before the weekend even started.
It's only been a few weeks since I found out that anything was even...
It’s only been two weeks since we had that dinner together..
Just a few weeks... and here we are...
Everything feels completely empty now.
Sorry again to everyone on this thread.
I realize you probably have much better things to do than read my childish little "essays." But I don't. I just feel this need to write down the things I can't seem to say out loud...
And this forum has become a second home to me... so, I guess I'm just overusing it.
Sending my best and a hug to everyone...
