(Language and graphic violence warning)
I commemorate this Father’s Day by saying, “fuck you,” to my dad and by congratulating myself for having broken free from a cycle of extreme abuse. It has been seven years since I’ve spoken to him. Before that, we had worked on reconciliation. That fell apart when he claimed he had no memory of virtually anything that happened over that long decade.
Ten years worth of a full catalogue of abuses. I lived in constant horror as a kid. I’ve been beaten with a 2×4, a wooden kitchen chair leg, a baseball bat, fists, back hands, hit with keys and a pickle jar (edit: the keys and pickle jar were someone else actually); I’ve lived through basement captivity and room confinement; sleep and comfort deprivation (like hot water), I’ve held stress positions until collapse and had too many emotional abuses to even recall.
It was a long road to travel, but now, I am who I want to be and who I choose to be today – living with positivity, compassion, and love. I have no need for violence and neither does the world.
I used to want revenge, but in the past year, that last bit of control he had over me went away. There is no power to be regained. He lives because I permit it, and my life is turning out wonderfully. Now that, dad, that’s power.
I hope the real dads, the ones being active in their kids lives, had a great Fathers’ Day. Cheers.