Daddy's Little Girl

I quietly sit in the back of the church as the sobs of the filled up church ring in my ears. The minister announces for the last of the 3 minute remarks. For a moment, no one moves. The minister assumes no one wants to speak, and before he opens his mouth to move forward with the service, I rise to my feet. Dressed in a black hoodie, some dark wash jeans, and some black air max, I make my way to the podium. With sunglasses covering half of my face, I stand at the podium for a few moments before I say anything. I finally part my lips to speak, “As I look at all of the faces of you people, and listen to all the things said here today, I’m glad to have this opportunity to share with you. The man that you refer to as kind and loving and full of life, I never knew him. The man that I knew was a liar, a terrible father, a cheater, and not even deserving of such kind words from such fake people.” From that initial statement, my rant goes on for about seven minutes, three minutes over my allocated time. I end my speech by saying, “Here lies Aaron Andre Kearney….dead! The world is a better place without him!” Then the dream ends….

I’ve had this same exact dream at least three nights this week. I’ve had a similar dream before, but never remember so many details. Aaron Andre Kearney is the man people would call my father. Me, I call him everything but father. For such a long time, I hated this man. I mean absolutely hated him. But it took for a tragic time in my life to realize that I had to forgive him in order for me to move on and grow. I feel like I’ve been tricking myself into forgiving him for the last few years. I’ll tell myself that it’s cool, I don’t need him and that he did both my mom and I a HUGE favor by not being there, but I’ve recently realized that it’s not just me and my mother that got screwed by him. You know the saying “poppa was a rolling stone”, well in my case, poppa was a rolling boulder; a rolling boulder that crushed lives every time he made a move. Legend has it that my father has anywhere from twelve to fifteen kids. Here are the ones I know for sure: Nicole, Aaron Jr., Tasha, Quita, Shemeka, Theresa, and Jackie. I’ve been told that I have two brothers in prison, one for murder and the other for robbery. I don’t know these people; I just know their names and some of their faces. For the longest time, I blamed my father as the reason I don’t know my siblings. I’m 24 years old now, and I feel like I need to know these people. I grew up in a house with my older sister and brother and we’re closer than close.

Because of the way my father stopped being in my life, when I was younger I thought it was my fault. And I’ve been left with the feeling that every man I encounter will abandon me or leave me in some way or another. In the back of my mind, I figured if he left me, why wouldn’t any other man leave me? I wanted the attention of every man I encountered at as young age; uncles, my brother, boyfriends of relatives, etc. And the feeling of abandonment and needing to be shown attention from men, has led me to have some pretty weird relationships. Because I expect them to leave, I push them away before it can happen. Here I am now, with a wonderful man in my life, and although he assures me all the time that he’s not going anywhere, I find it hard to believe.

I said all of that to say this, I’m 24 years old and I don’t know a thing about my father, and he doesn’t know a thing about me. The only things I know is, I feel like I wasn’t good enough for him. And I know it’s not just me, but also my other siblings that grew up without him. I have questions that I have to have answered before my 25th birthday. And I intend to get them answered by sitting face to face with him and having a very LONG, OVERDUE talk. Thanks to a sister who recently found me on MySpace, this conversation might take place. I’m just scared out of my mind for some reason. I don’t want him in my life, I just want him to know I turned out to be someone that is pretty awesome, and I’m only getting smarter, stronger and even more awesome than before. And all of this is happening without him.

Short and Sweet (but right to the point)

Welp! I really hate that my first blog of the New Year is somewhat on a negative note, but oh well! It is what IT is!

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always had a gang of male friends. And I do mean a gang! It’s like I gravitate towards men for friendship. I’ve made the following statement a million times and I’ll make for the millionth and one time, I DO NOT LIKE WOMEN! From their attitudes, to their need to fit in with other women, to some of their voices! GAH!!!! I can’t keep women as friends and I’m cool with that. Like now, there are a few chicks that I’ll hang out with, but even then I get tired of them. (*sighs) After the second day of seeing them, I’m thinking, “Okay you can go away now. Thanks”. I know what you’re thinking; it’s natural to get tired of your friends sometimes. And you, my dear, are absolutely correct. But this only happens with my female friends or associates if you want to get technical. I could sit in a room full of men and endure that madness all day and all night! I’ve come up with the following reasons for not really getting along with women. Reason one: I don’t trust a woman as far as I can throw one. I haven’t directly figured out the source behind my lack of trust in women, but I believe by a huge margin that a man can definitely be trusted more than a woman. (You can give me the side eye all you want for that comment) Reason two: Women are clingy and clique-ish. I don’t want to hang out with you every second of every day, and I don’t want to talk to you on the phone PERIOD! I’m not down for all the female bonding, unless there is liquor and food involved. Please believe me when I say, I’m just there for those two. Reason three: women are way too emotional for me to deal with. I’m an emotional person, and I have enough to deal with on my own, I don’t really want to hear your problems all day long. GAH! Lastly, reason four: I just feel more comfortable around a man. Some people would tell me that it’s unhealthy to not want to have a friendship with someone of the same sex and to those people I say….GET BENT! It’s not healthy for me to have a friendship with someone I don’t trust and am willing to bet a small amount of money that they don’t trust me either. And I wouldn’t blame them, cause nine times out of ten they get on my nerves any way.