Microfiction | Love Letters | Abuse
A Love Letter for You: Daddy
A letter to her father
TW: Childhood abuse, emotional abuse
Dear Daddy,
You were the first man I ever fell in love with.
You were the first man to tell me I was pretty and the first man to buy me a gift. You were the first man to hold me until I slept and the first man to kiss me goodnight and say good morning. You were the first man that held my hand and rubbed my back when I cried. You were the first man who took me to a movie, knew my favorite ice cream flavor and told me that I could do hard things, even though I was a girl.
People used to kid with you and tell you that the doctor “forgot to cut the umbilical cord” after I was born. But it was never me and Mom; it was always you, Daddy. You were my hero from the moment I was born. You loved me, and that was enough to tolerate every other thing.
You were the first man to give me a nickname.
You were the first person that taught me that secrets stay secret. You were the man who taught me that abuse is ignored when family does it. You were the first man that taught me to loosen my jaw so that when she hit me it would not hurt as much.
You were the first man that taught me that if I didn’t eat for a few days that I would be okay, and I could lose a few pounds anyway at the age of seven. You were the first man that agreed that my thighs were too big, my ass was like jello and my face was “funny.”
You were the first man to give me a nickname.
You were the first person who taught me that crying would only mean that next time she would put more than one cigarette out of my arm. You were the first man who showed me that emotion was weakness and crying was for “sissies” who needed to toughen up. You were the first man that showed me that I could not rely on anyone else to save me.
You were the first man to give me a nickname.
You were the first man who told me I was going to hell. You were the first man that told me I deserved whatever pain life threw at me. You were the first man who let me know that I was not “up to par” and lacked “class.”
You were the first man to give me a nickname.
You were the first man who taught me to hide who I am. You were the first man who told me that getting an education was a waste of time and that I should learn to cook better.
You were the first man to teach me not to trust, believe, get comfortable or think that I was worth anything.
You were the first man to give me a nickname.
You are the first man I hated.
Love,
Your cockroach
