Daddy Issues

 

One of the typical stereotypes for African Americans is not having a dad, and I just so happen to fit that stereotype. I don’t not have a dad because he’s dead, or because I just don’t know him and have never met him, I don’t have a dad because he doesn’t act like a father to me. We talk every once in a blue moon. 

 

I have a mom, a loving mom that has always made sure that I had everything that I wanted and needed, but since I don’t have a father, a piece of me has always been missing. 

 

“Why doesn’t he want me?” a question that has always roamed in my head. Did I do something wrong? Was I just not a good enough daughter for him? Why doesn’t he want to be my dad and give me the proper love and attention that I desire? It’s all that I’ve ever wanted. Not money, not gifts. Just his love, time, and attention, but I’ve never experienced what it felt like to have any of that. 

 

With this hole in my heart that he left, I looked to males to fill it. I looked to boys for love and attention because I didn’t get it from my dad and that messed me up at a really young age. I started dating an older boy, and called myself falling in love at the age of 13 and ended up getting my heart broken and going through a ton of depression all because I wanted to just feel loved from a male. This is ALL your fault, why couldn’t you just be here for me? I NEEDED YOU.

 

On Father’s day, while everyone posts and visits their dads, I’ve always had to just sit and smile because I couldn’t really relate. What would I even get you for father’s day anyways? More courage so that you could be a better man and better father and stop being a coward. Would I get you a box of condoms so that you could stop making children and abandoning them. Tuh, a question that I don’t even need to think about though, because Father’s Day for me goes uncelebrated. 

 

Why lay down and have children just to abandon them? Why leave a child that was brought into this world with a father and  to live the rest of their life without one? Why not be there for your daughter. Guess we’ll never know though. I guess these questions will remain unanswered. 

 

I don’t even get calls on my birthdays. Not texts. Not calls. Nothing. Just silence. If making someone feel unimportant was a sport, you would ALWAYS come in number one. And I find myself constantly telling myself “he doesn’t matter. you don’t need him” BUT I DO NEED YOU. NOT FOR FINANCIAL SUPPORT, not for money,  not for gifts, but just for you to be here for me. I just need you to be my dad. 

 

One missing father.

Two daddy daughter dances missed.

Three times seen in person. 

Four texts sent with no reply. 

Five plus years missing. 

Six children, absent in all of their lives. 

Seven days a week with no communication. 

Eight birthdays with no texts or calls. 

Nine months you waited for me to be born just to abandon me. 

Ten digits in my phone number that you never use. 

Eleven years of school, and not one event attended. 

Twelve months a year that we don’t speak.

Thirteenth birthday you didn’t call. 

Fourteen, the age my life fell apart and you were absent.

Fifteen years of my life that you haven’t been here. 

 

I just have one question. Why don’t you want me?

 

  

This poem is about: 
Me

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