my relationship with my dad has never been picturesque, though some pictures say otherwise. i think the older i got the more complicated it got. i feel torn between who i see and who others see. i saw a person deeply dedicated to his work, which inspired me but also it was my first introduction to loneliness and a deep longing to be seen by a man. i saw someone who was selfless enough to drop everything for his fellow man, which taught me to do the same but also taught me to neglect my needs to fulfill someone else’s. a simple “te ves bonita, mijita” would melt me, which made it a fight to hold my ground when i wore something that wasn’t to his liking but made me feel like my most beautiful self.
there’s a sweetness to him. there’s a strength to him. there’s an incredible charisma that he has. my love for dad jokes came from him. my fondest memories of my dad are the two times in my entire life that he took my hand and danced with me.
there’s a sweetness to him. i savor those sweet moments, because i know there’s bitterness that juxtaposes the good times. my relationship with my dad is a tumultuous roller coaster. moments of glee, laughter, fear.. wanting the ride to slow down and go faster, holding on to your seatbelt to grasp as much stability as you can, elated at the top of a drop, losing your breath, feeling the drop in your belly when things go downhill, then glad to plant your feet on solid ground when it’s over. maybe you’ll give it another try, maybe it’s too much for you on a particular day. and that’s okay.
to the people with complicated relationships with their fathers. catch your breath. try again if and when you’re ready. // 👨👧
