Category Archives: Father

Circular Thinking

We had a trip to watch one of our “adult” children participate in a sports related fundraiser. It was to be about an hour ride going out and back. We planned on piggy-backing a couple of other things we wanted to do as long as we had to travel south to the event. Yesterday Susan asked me to show her a good time while we were out and about today. I interpreted that to mean be pleasant and 00LsCunderstanding during the day.

After the fundraiser, Susan had second thoughts about the remaining plans for the day. Weather was getting iffy and we might be facing winter driving conditions if we followed through with our plans. She asked me if it would be okay with me if we just headed home. I had no particular commitment to our secondary plans so I agreed to head on home.

A few minutes later, she asked if I was mad at her and I told her no, and perhaps another day we might have a discussion if I wanted to stay with what was planned. But I said I was fine with her desire to go home.

When we found the main road that would take us home, she asked if I loved her. I said yes, but sensed some unrest coming from within her. I asked her to have everyone come forward as far as they could to the front, even if they have to peek out from behind a door (one of her insiders lives in fear and stays in a kitchen sink base cabinet). When she said everyone was ready, I explained to them that I care about her and am not mad at her or them. It was a good idea to head on home.

Then some of her inside people came to the front, saying loudly, “You’re just being nice so you can get in her pants!”

The only time Susan’s father was nice to her was when he wanted to have sex with her. How horribly sad. Even as a youngster she could recognize she was being set up. And I’m angry that I still am tied into this endless circle, this Möbius band of confusing me with her father. If I get angry, she says she gets scared because I become like her father. If I am I nice, I become like her father.

Where am I to go?

 

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Filed under Father, History, sex