Daddy’s Little Girl

First and foremost, deep in my heart I believe a healthy father-daughter relationship is

very important in a young woman’s life. A young woman needs her father to protect her and
show her how a man should treat her. I went through a lot in my childhood that still affects me
till this day. I am very defensive towards men, I don’t trust men, I don’t like to get attached to
men. That is all because of my father. Fathers are supposed to be there for their daughters no
matter what. They’re supposed to love their daughters unconditionally. A father sets high
expectations for future boyfriends. A father is there to make sure no guy breaks his little girl’s
heart.
At first, I was sad. Then my sadness turned to anger. Now, I’m not sad or angry. I’m at
peace with how everything is. God has a plan for everyone and only gives his hardest battles to
his strongest soldiers. I wrote a poem about my childhood and everything I wanted to say to my
father. I always had a difficult time expressing my feelings.
For starters, my dad and I have always had a very up and down relationship. At first, he
was my best friend. We did everything together. Wherever he went, I went. He was my
protector and the one that made me feel loved. The type of father daughter love that no man
could ever replace. My dad did anything and everything for me. He always made sure that I had
everything I wanted. He just loved seeing me smile. Even though I hated when he spent too
much money on me. But he always said: “It is okay, you’re my daughter and I’m supposed to do
these things for you. You can come to me for whatever”. It feels like ages ago since we used to
cruise around and go get munchies from the corner store. BOOM! Just like that everything
changed in a split second. My dad got a girlfriend. She soon became his wife.
It was like gray clouds that filled my world once my dad started spending more time with
that woman! Nancy was her name and let’s just say she did not like me, and I was not fond of her
either. Don’t get me wrong. I tried to get to know her. She was mentally and verbally abusive.
She used to make me take the blame for things that wasn’t my fault. She made me lie to my dad.
She did anything and everything to keep my dad busy and away from me. Did I mention that I
lived with my mom five days out of the week and only seen my dad on the weekend? Yes, that’s
the reality of having separated parents. It’s like living in two separate worlds. It is very difficult
to balance. Nancy didn’t make that any easier on me. Nancy changed who my dad was as a
person. I will never forgive her for that! My dad was the sweetest person and very generous. He
had a heart of gold and had the most contagious laugh ever. But that all changed as time went on.
Nancy intentionally wanted to have a daughter with my dad. She wanted to push me out of the
picture. She finally got her wish and I gave up. I gave up trying to find the dad I once loved. I
gave up trying to find the caring father he was. I gave up trying to make time for him. When it
seemed like he never had time for me anymore.
There was always tensions between Nancy and I. It was awkward at times because I was
the only one that seen how fake and phony she was. She talked bad about my dad’s sisters and
mother. She played everything off so good. That’s how I knew I would never trust her or want to
get to know her. I was only eight years old when I endured her abuse. I was innocent and didn’t
know what to do. I was afraid of the consequences of speaking up and I didn’t want my mother
to know. If she knew what was going on at that time. Lord only knows! She would have made a
scene and want to confront Nancy. I probably wouldn’t be able to spend time with my dad. My
mother loved me very much and protected me at all costs.
As time goes on, and I get older and wiser. I started to speak my mind and not let anyone
run over me like before. It was the beginning of my junior year and I didn’t tolerate anyone
mistreating me. I spoke up when things weren’t right. I decided to be the bigger person when it
came to Nancy. I made it known that I didn’t trust nor like her. It was a Saturday night; I was
sleeping over my dad’s house. For some odd reason, Nancy had a terrible attitude that night. She
was obnoxiously loud and stomping her feet everywhere she dragged them. She was slamming
doors left and right. I mean who was I to judge. It was her house, so she’s entitled to do whatever
she pleases.
Disclaimer: My parents always argued when they were around each other. They couldn’t be in
the same room for too long. Especially with expenses for me they tended to fight even more. My
mother wanted equal responsibility for my school fees, eye doctor appointments, sport fees, etc.
Back to the story, that night my mother and father got into a mild disagreement about the
time and place we had to meet up tomorrow to drop me off to my mom. Nancy always tried to
put her two-sense in. She always instigated the problems and made things worse. She wanted to
be in control of everything my dad did. She felt threatened that my mom was speaking to my
father. When in reality, my mother could care less about my father. She only tolerated him
because I was in his care. That night Nancy whispered something under her breathe. She was
speaking about my mother in a nasty way. I never let anyone call my mother out of her name
with disrespectful names. Don’t get me wrong. I respect adults and those in authority. But I had
enough of her!
Me: “Why do you need to bring up my mom every second? Why are you so concerned about
her?”
Nancy: “What did you say?”
Me: “You need to stop talking bad about my mom. You’re not going to say rude things about her
in front of me anymore!”
Nancy: “Oh yeah? Or what?”
(I stepped into her face)
Me; “JUST STOP TALKING ABOUT MY MOTHER!”
My dad gets in between us. The worry expression on his face and the shaky voice as he
tried to calm us both down. He just kept telling us to stop! I was not going to stop! I have
remained silent all these years. While Nancy ran her mouth constantly. She was going to hear
that night. I packed my things that night and called my uncle Joe to pick me up and take me back
to Chicago.
 It was near the end of my senior year of high school and I had to take a dramatic studies
class. I knew for sure I was going to fail because I am far from being the best actor; however,
poetry is what I enjoyed. I loved the way people got whatever message they wanted to get across
in a different way. But I can be very shy when it comes to speaking about my past and there was
this reputation for my english teacher, Ms. Hathaway, to fail anyone who did not do well in
presenting their indie poem. I knew I wanted to make a statement and talk about real life
situations. I knew there was a girl out there that had gone through a similar experience as mine. I
wanted to get my story out there. But then again, I do not like people knowing my business and
judging me. I had so many thoughts going on my head. I did not know where to start when
writing about my dad. My dad is not perfect. I do not blame him. I wanted to get my point across
about my pain that he caused me. I still loved him, but I had ENOUGH! I had enough of his
excuses, and I wanted ANYONE to hear my story. I wanted to portray two people in my indie
poem. Jescaya the scared little girl and then Jescaya the young woman who is stronger from her
past childhood experiences. I knew this poem would be closure for me. I knew that I had to
forgive him. I knew that he did not see my point of view. But I definitely knew that I had to
speak my truth and how the past had affected me. Ms. Hathaway’s classroom was very small.
My high school in general was very small and crammed together as students rushed to class like
sardines. There was even elbow room to lift your arm up in the hall. I tried to take my time that
day through the hall. As I dreaded walking and sitting down in her class. Just to wait for Ms.
Hathaway to shake her black top hat and laugh hysterically as she seen the nervous look in her
classes’ eyes. Because once she pulls that first name out of a hat. It was show time and they had
to read their indie poem out loud with full emotion and tons body motion.
Now, June 2020 my father and I had a deep conversation about how we want to move
forward and make our relationship better. Just him and I. It was a powerful and emotional
conversation that was very much needed. However, Nancy and I have yet to talk or even see
each other since 2017. I really have nothing to say to her. I’ve matured over time and could care
less about getting revenge on her. I wish her nothing but the best and hope she can be a better
person. There is no reason for us to have a relationship besides being around my father. I can
remain cordial, but nothing more. I only want my father back. I missed him very much. I forgive
him for not being there these past couple of years. My poem was a little intense, but it was my
reality. Started with “They would call me your twin. They would say we were inseparable”. The
ending my poem with a bold and powerful statement. That shows that no woman needs to rely on
a man. “Cause in the end you will be the one that is sorry”. I was frustrated my senior year and
my father yet again missed my prom and graduation. I finally got to speak my peace and show
my pain that I was battling internally. I missed my dad’s presence. But I will always be daddy’s
little girl.