The Reason Is....

... The reason for this story is that, when I got married, only my kids and a few of my friends from work were there.

Now, marrying someone after 20 hours, even if you plan it that way, is a bit of a gamble, I'll admit. Thus the logic in not inviting everybody and his brother. That and the fact that I lost my mother and am not particularly close to my father, combined in my inviting my family, indeed, knowing that they wouldn't come. My romance and my past are stories for a different day...

Shortly after my wedding I received the following note from my father:

Hello Danielle,

I guess i should congratulate you on your new marriage, but why such secrecy?

Also, my computer is out of commission for at least a month. I need M's
computer which you were to send to E NOW. I just learned that D
did not receive it!!!

Please have it sent to me, with power supply and computer password NOW by
EXPRESS PRIORITY MAIL at..........................

So, I guess some of the story of the past is for today, and not some other day.

My therapist had often advised me to tell my father what I thought and how I felt. I was never willing to take that risk. But it's not like I had anything to lose, so, ion response to his tender good wishes, above, I replied,

Hi Dad,

I didn't initially answer your question about my secrecy for the same reasons that I kept such things secret.

The answer is quite simple, but it isn't easy ~ not to give, and not to hear.

I keep things secret, especially from you because I am afraid of you; I am angry with you; and I am hurt by you and by our past.

When Mom was dying, she and I talked about all of these things. She accepted her share of responsibility for the past. I accepted mine. We worked things through. We forgave one another. She forgave the debts that I had "incurred" while the two of you were together. She explained certain things to me. Others, of course, she could not, for the actual reasons, the true explanations are known only by you.

The day that Mom told you that the doctor had told her that some people believe that ALS may be tied to head trauma, when you were in the living room with her and Mic and I took off, we knew everything she was going to say. We were afraid of your reaction, so we left. Mom had told us that we could stay in the room, but we were both afraid and wanting to give the two of you the privacy necessary. We were also afraid of your reaction.

I wasn't such a bad kid. I am not a bad person now. Contrary to what you believe and what you choose to tell other people. None of us was particularly bad when we were children. I have depression and anxiety issues. I probably always have. I always will. My tantrums at school were the direct result of those biological problems and of the abusive addictive environment that existed in our home.

Your children were not raised by you. You and Mom were not our parents. We raised ourselves. We may not have done the greatest job in the world, but we did our best under the circumstances. My behaviors as a child and young adult were entirely typical of the child of an abusive alcoholic and a codependent weaker parent. I had to guess at what normal behavior is. I have difficulty following through with things. I will choose to lie, to protect myself, as a reflex, when it is at least just as easy to tell the truth. I am extremely self-deprecating, self-critical, and self-destructive. I have grown to believe the lies that you told me about myself. I have difficulty enjoying myself; I don't go on vacation, somehow believing that I need your permission to live! I take everything very personally and very seriously. I have difficulty with intimate relationships. I overreact to things I cannot control. I constantly seek approval and affirmation. I feel different from others. I am either overly responsible or entirely irresponsible. I am extremely loyal, even to you. I am impulsive.

You and Mom taught me, and anyone else who would listen, that I was smart and evil, and that the twins were pretty and stupid. You're right. I am smart, and the twins are pretty. But they are also smart, and I am not evil.

You don't even know me.

You never have.

You've never told a single one of your children that you love them. Never.

The beatings were the easy part. I learned to literally count the blows instead of allowing myself to cry, thinking that it would make you happy if I cried, and wanting to deny you that pleasure. I didn't want to allow you that much power over me. The neglect and the hatred were what was hard to handle, and that is what continues to this day. I constantly seek your love and approval, even though I know that they are something I will never be able to attain.

My childhood was defined by anger and violence.

That isn't right, Dad. It isn't fair. Not to me, not to the twins, not to Mom, not to D, and not to M. Not even to you.

I don't know why you are the way you are. I wish I did. It would be easier to understand you if I could understand how you came to hate your own children. Your hatred of us really had nothing to do with who we are, but with who you are.

You don't know enough about me to even know my favorite color.

You have never been capable of accepting that I, or the twins, have talents.

I have made more than my share of mistakes, and have done many things wrong in my life, but I am not a bad person, whether you choose to believe it or not.

Neither are the twins.

So, I kept my relationship with F a secret because I didn't want you to try to ruin it for me. You don't have that right. By keeping this a secret, I took your power over me away from you. I am choosing to listen to what I have to say about who I am and what I am capable of, and to shut you out, if that's what it takes.

The terrible, horrible emotional, psychological, and physical abuse that you have subjected your family to since I was a baby has defined all of us. But what we do with who we are from here on out, that is for us to determine. For me, I have decided to live my own truth, to leave my past mistakes in the past, and to strive to do my best from here on out, in keeping with my own definition of who I am, and not with the definition that you have imposed upon me.

Just as much as I am not you, I am not the person you believe me to be, nor am I that person you insist on making me out to be. And I am not a victim either. I am not going to allow you or the past to continue your hold on me. I am choosing to live in accordance with my own values. I refuse to continue to live down to your expectations. No more. Not now. Not ever again.

I deserve just as much as everyone else in this world. I deserve to be happy. I deserve to love and be loved. I deserve to excel and to be given credit for that which I am capable of. I deserve to liberate myself from the emotional prison you created in my world.

So, Dad, I kept my love a secret from you because my life is a secret for you.

I will send the computer when I can afford it. Since January, I have spent well over $3,000 on M. It's getting close to $4,000 now. Even with the $400 that D sent me, and which I sincerely appreciate, I have paid for M and his needs and bills before paying for my own stuff. I need to get my things straightened out financially before I send you the computer.

I doubt you'll ever answer this email. That's alright, you don't need to. I am not telling you this for you, but for me. I am not stupid. Both of us know the truth of my words. No need to argue or get all angry. What I have said here is factual. I have simply explained the reasons for my secrecy. I am, frankly, surprised, that you thought it necessary to ask such a question. Hell, I doubt I'll hear from you again, at all. I'd like to. That would be a pleasant surprise, but I'm not holding my breath, don't you know.

In closing, I would like to leave you with three questions:

Why did you do what you did to us growing up? We weren't such bad kids, and didn't put you through nearly as much as some people do, not even nearly as much as M has.

Why did you need to abuse, mistreat, deprecate and belittle me so much more than you did the twins?

Do you love and care about any of your children? And, if so, wouldn't it be better to live that emotion instead of hatred, anger, and alcoholism?

I love you,

Danielle

I didn't think he would answer. But he did. Stay tuned for his loving, heartfelt (hah!) response.

I showed this letter to M and to the twins. They all agreed with me.

I couldn't believe I had the guts to tell him what I thought.

I guess it hearkens back to that T-shirt I saw in the airport one day...

SPEAK YOUR MIND
EVEN IF YOUR VOICE SHAKES