My father was barely ever around and never, ever touched me, much less hugged me. The lone exception is when I smarted off to my mother one night and my father flew into a rage, drawing his belt, and beating me until there were welts across my legs. I was just a little kid. That night I slept in the bathtub with the bathroom door locked. I never felt loved by my father, even though he loved showing me off like a trophy because I was so smart. My siblings (2 sisters and 1 brother) had wonderful relationships with my dad. Why didn’t I?
My mom did at least show me some affection. They sent me off to private school when I was in the 7th grade and every time my mom took me back from Christmas, spring break and long weekends, she would hug me and kiss me on the cheek, waiting for me to kiss her back. I found it very embarrassing because she always did this out in the open with other students around. My dad never took me back to school.
Today, at 59 years old, I am incredibly uncomfortable touching, hugging, holding hands or any other kind of physical contact, whether it be with another man or with a woman. When I see a father holding, hugging, and even kissing his young son, my heart aches and tears well up within me as I yearn for that same kind of connection.
I am scared to death of any physical contact with women. My mom and dad never displayed affection towards one another. Had it not been for us kids, I doubt they would have stayed together. I had no role model. So, I don’t know how to have a relationship with a woman. I never learned how to, and being off to an all boys school for 6 years, I rarely had the opportunity. I guess I fear women now.
I never married so now, being disabled, I sit all alone in my apartment 24/7, only getting out to go to the grocery store, doctor appointments, or the pharmacy. I am emotionally stunted, socially inept, and I feel it is too late to do anything about it.
My dad died from a massive heart attack when he was 43. I was twenty. I stood and watched while the paramedics worked on him. I felt nothing, no sadness, no sorrow, nothing at all. Even on the day he was buried, I felt nothing and still haven’t to this day. He meant nothing to me. Like every other time in my life when I should have felt something in my heart, I simply withdrew inside of myself and moved on.
This has all made me a very sad man. I know what I have missed in my life, what I should have felt, but I didn’t. There is just this great emptiness inside of me that can never be filled, and that makes me just that much sadder.