A Little Girl Needs A Daddy

It’s been a fun and fact-filled week for me, realizing I’m a Babygirl. When going through my pictures to see what I should upload here, I realized that my room isn’t just immature and colorful…it’s um…a Babygirl room. I suppose I always thought I was just young at heart, but the past few days I’ve been contemplating if I was always like this, and the answer is, no. I don’t like the Why, but here it is…

There were a few years where I’d outgrown childhood and was shunning Disney movies as “kids stuff”. I was thirteen or so, and I wanted to be a grown-up. I got rid of my Barbies, I sold my precious Grand Champion model horse collection, I cleared tons of things out of my Baby Box and even threw away a few stuffed animals. Then when I was seventeen, we left my dad. It was what I wanted, and I don’t regret my choice to cut him out of my life for the past eight years one bit. But I’m only recently realizing how deeply the loss of a father figure has affected me.

Looking back, I remember that first year we left him, I started watching Disney movies again. They made me feel little, they were familiar and safe. I started listening to the music I listened to when I was little…it was like a lullaby. I began a five-year obsession with stuffed animals. If it was cute, and snuggly, it had to be mine. I poured every cent I had into things that felt soft and comforting. The past three years it’s morphed into things such as cuddly blankets, and fuzzy pajama pants.

Now that I look at it from this perspective, it seems so blatantly obvious that I was trying to self-soothe. I was trying to recreate my childhood…the safety I felt there, the smallness, the innocence.

I feel so angry that this was caused by walking away from my dad. The sperm donor doesn’t deserve to make me feel anything. I’m going to have to deal with the fact that I do feel something, and the resentment I have about that. But for now, it helps to know that I don’t miss my dad, I simply miss a father figure. And that’s okay. It’s natural. Daughters are meant to have fathers they can trust in and rely on. If the real one isn’t around, is incapable, or simply doesn’t care…then she can find someone who is around, who is capable, who does care…someone worthy of her love.

I will own that. A little girl needs a Daddy.

Worthlessness and Daddy Domination

The past few weeks, I’ve come to realize that I have needs and desires I wasn’t previously aware of. Some of them, I’m able to swallow… Others are potentially damaging. I’m pretty stunned by most of them, and have been trying to find the Why behind them, while also attempting to accept them as they come.

I’ve been talking with various friends, trying to find other perspectives on things. I’m sort of keeping a tentative eye open for the person who might fulfill these needs for me… But besides not being sure if a lot of it is a good idea, I think trying to get it all from one person would be impossible. But I can imagine if it did happen, I could regret it…mostly the physical abuse part. To delve into that topic…

I believe I am worthless. It began before I reached puberty, and I know that my dad was a big facilitator in those early feelings of no self-esteem. It’s normal for fathers to pull away physically when their daughters start growing up, but he became disdainful, critical about everything…mostly my body. Instead of my mom introducing me to things like make-up, he was always the one in my ear, he was the one who made me start shaving and made me feel ashamed of my body; he criticized my hair, made me wear dresses and never pants, forced me to go on long bike rides with him when I was on my period and wanted nothing more than to just stay home… I felt like I was never good enough and never able to make my own decisions or feel validated. I’ve hated my body since those early days when I was twelve or so. I know everyone blames the media and movie stars for making girls feel inadequate, but it was never that, for me. I just KNEW I wasn’t good enough, and never could be. I was out of my teens before I finally found one thing about my body that I could admit I liked, and that was my eyes…they could never change, never gain weight, never be anything other than the pretty kaleidoscope of colors that they already were.

My feelings of worthlessness have only grown stronger and deeper as time goes by, first from that place I didn’t know about (which I’m now beginning to think was initiated by my dad), and then by looking at other girls around me (again, never media) and seeing that I didn’t measure up, and finally in relationships. What’s sad is that my relationships have almost never ended in rejection… What I’ve found to happen when I get close to someone, is that I begin to doubt their sincerity. I have these ready-made excuses for why anyone would ever care about me. Most commonly, it’s “They just don’t know me well enough yet”. There’s never a doubt in my mind that once some threshold is crossed, they’ll realize the truth of my uselessness, and discard me. If our closeness fails to produce this result, I get panicky, and activate my first defense mechanism, which is pushing people away. I have many methods for this one, but they all have the same end result. If I cannot push someone away either by discontinuing the attractive sides of my personality, avoidance, downright rudeness, or trying to force them to tell me what they hate about me, I will end the relationship myself. Most of the time, that’s what it comes down to. For some inexplicable reason, it’s generally very difficult for me to get someone to abandon me. So in the end, I have a very sad and disturbing track record of abandoning people myself, instead. I’m sure to everyone involved, it seems like I’m a cold-hearted bitch, but hopefully as you see here, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s a desperate act of defense, born of fear and mistrust.

All of the above has been in regards to people who pursue me with care, delight, and respect. We’ve finally reached the topic of abuse, and this is where it really gets tragic. I’ve had people who treat me badly, or talk down to me, and I like it. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. It feels deserved. It feels RIGHT. Someone telling me they love me sounds like a lie…I’m always waiting for the bomb to drop, to figure out what it is they’re trying to get out of me, or what kind of trap they’re teasing me into. Emotional abuse feels natural. It’s static and trustworthy. It has to be real because that’s what I’m good for, it’s what I’m made for, isn’t it? It fits into my universe. It makes sense and it is familiar, thus comforting.

I think this is part of why I keep fantasizing about domination. The thing is…I don’t have a problem with that. Is that bad? Is that wrong? Does that turn you off or on? I crave it, and honestly I don’t care WHY I crave it…I just want it. I do want to understand it, have no doubt about that… But after I understand it, I just want to drown in it. It appeals to me on such a deep, feral level. I want to feel under. I want to feel lesser. I want to be told what to do. Ordered. Forced. I want to be talked down to and called names. All of that would turn me on like fuck. However… I need there to be a different undertone, as well. I want, just as savagely, to be rewarded for accepting that treatment. I need to be told to hold still so he can keep fucking me just the way he wants…because I make HIM feel good. I want him to be angry with me because he WANTS me. I want him to take what he wants, because he can, and tell me how hard it makes him, tell me he can’t hold back his cum and smack me in fury for making him lose control and cum like that. I NEED to be told I’m a good girl. I NEED to hear “Just like that, bitch”.

I need to be condescended to by a man who desires me.

Father Figure

The main theme of the past three months is that I’ve discovered I have an enormous hole in me, in the shape of a father figure. I think it’s been there for a very, very long time, and it’s only just now becoming apparent to me.

We left my dad when I was seventeen; I’m twenty-five now. I have deep hatred for him, and have not allowed him into my life in any form since the day we left. After a few years, the hatred became dormant, and I did start to feel a bit of longing when I saw my uncles; I remember thinking a few times that maybe one of them would want to adopt me. I shook off the idea as silly, because seventeen should be old enough to be without a father, right?

I haven’t thought about the desire for a father in years, but what has happened is a definite attraction to older men. I’ve always gotten along well with middle-aged men, even just as I hit my teens, but it has blossomed into full-blown indifference about age, as far as my attraction goes. To put it into perspective, the last man I let out a dreamy sigh for was fifty-eight years old.

I’ve never connected my attraction to older men with a daddy complex, before. I suppose that was blind of me. I took it to mean I was mature and enlightened; above all those silly girls who only wanted silly boys. Now, that is largely true…I don’t have patience for party animals or immature guys…but I think it’s fairly obvious that there is a deeper psychological base for all of this. Anyway, all this sort of went over my head until the past three months.

I met a man online, and when he told me his age I made a joke and called him daddy. Things sort of spiralled from there, and though he lived a very safe distance away in another state, we began a very crazy and intoxicating roleplay relationship. I couldn’t honestly tell you how it happened, but we began roleplaying 100% of the time, as father and daughter. It was sexual and relational, and I became very deeply emotionally attached to him. When I realized that I was trying to make myself live the fantasy that he really was my father, I freaked out at how far it had gone. I took a step back and started paying attention, and realized that he was lying to me about his life… I cut off contact with him about a month ago. I cried. I still can’t believe how powerful an effect I let him have over me.

That, coupled with even more recent experiences, sort of triggered something between an epiphany and a panic attack. haha I realized that I have a very desperate emotional need for a father figure, and it extends well into the sexual realm.

It also caused me to consider many other things that have been rattling around in the back of my mind, such as my desire and apparent need to be dominated, and also how my self-esteem could easily make it possible for me to accept physical abuse. I used to work with a guy who was extremely condescending and would yell at me in the back room…I’ve been thinking about how turned on I was by the tone in his voice when he yelled at me, and wishing he would come to my house and treat me like that. Lately I’ve been considering everything from the idea of being emotionally dominated, to being controlled by a stand-in father, to seeking out someone to punish me…I’ve even been Googling BDSM puppy slave lifestyles. I feel very lost and confused, depressed and scared. I feel like I’m on the verge of finding out something is really wrong with me, but on the other hand, I want to just accept anything I uncover and dive straight into it, whether or not it’s healthy. I want to be free. I’m sick of fighting myself all the time.

The bottom line is, there are a lot of things I’m realizing that I want and need, and it’s scaring the hell out of me but turning me on just as much… I always think things over in-depth before making any decisions, and I feel like all these things just showed up pounding on my door wanting to be decided upon. It’s pretty overwhelming and exciting. ;)

Relying On One

I think our society has this idea that one person has to provide everything for their spouse…um…are they insane?! ;) One person can’t provide all the things another could need. If such a person existed, it would be a miracle to ever find them. I was in despair of ever finding someone who was simply into the same sexual things I was turned on by…that doesn’t even factor in the emotional needs I have, the spiritual connection, how we would mesh in day-to-day life, not to mention my apparently ever-present need for a daddy! Like holy shit, when would I ever find a guy who could work for me in all those areas? It’s a ridiculous thought. Now that I’m seeing it through new eyes, it seems like true insanity. One of the things that’s been bothering me so greatly this past week is my realization that I’m not just into older men as a kink… There are “daddy” reasons behind it. I’ve been terrified of what that might mean…has any and every older guy I’ve been interested in sexually been a father substitute? I don’t know.

I’ve been wondering if I should try to separate out the two, go for younger men sexually and older men on a platonic, guidance level. Honestly for me, I think I would want that particular person infused with both. I think, given all the self-reflection I’ve done lately, that I DO need a sexual Daddy. But that doesn’t change these strong opinions I’m starting to form, that say you can’t have everything in one person.

The picture of multiple people coming together to create one person’s happiness is already taking serious hold on me. It seems even more loving than a marriage. It seems selfless, giving, beautiful.