She's still got daddy issues

I'm reading a book that is tearing my heart out and reminding me that I'll never stop missing my dad.

Introducing… the same newsletter, but different

Well, here we are. I’d like to introduce you to my new Substack. It’s still called Wandering – but instead of the literal wandering (which I’ll still talk about, from time to time), my newsletter is going to focus on internal wandering. The inner monologue that I think a lot of us have, some more than others. (Let’s be real, I’m an Enneagram Type 4, which is code for my internal monologue is a beautiful disaster.)

I’m reading a book that’s leading to all kinds of thoughts

I’m currently reading Margo’s Got Money Troubles by Rufi Thorpe, a book that is delightfully written and heart-breakingly relatable. Thorpe is one of those writers that makes me feel like an utter failure at my craft. Nobody can write like her, I am constantly reminding myself.

One of the key themes of the book is the messy, imperfect relationship between a father who is an addict and his daughter, who was mostly estranged from him during her childhood. Whew. You’d think that by 35 I’d be over it, but I think by 35 I’m finally realizing that I’ll never recover from the father that abandoned me.

Thorpe’s book explores a father-daughter relationship that is slowly mended – there are cracks and fissures, sure, but there’s undeniable, heart-poundingly authentic love between Margo and her father.

I find myself needing to take breaks. My breath gets caught in my throat and my eyes well up, from this deep, buried want.

I grew up only fifteen minutes away from my father and barely saw him as a child. Our relationship has never existed, and I have not seen any evidence of his love for me. I’ve seen the opposite, really. Indifference. Disdain, at times. Still, I’ve had this relentless desire to one day have a repaired relationship with him. It doesn’t matter that I haven’t seen him since 2017, or that I’ve seen him three times in thirteen years. I read stories like Margo’s Got Money Troubles and my big, sappy, heart wants that redemption arc with my father, too.

We all love the story of messy people finding their way back to each other, myself included. But the reality is there are grown-ass daughters wanting their fathers, while their fathers have never wanted them. I can’t help it, my heart is still tender and soft and my love for my father remains. Will we ever get that redemption arc? No. But I’ll never stop wanting it.

I’m working hard on my memoir

I’ve spent the last few months writing and re-writing pages of my memoir, God Lover. I feel like I am getting closer to where I need to be. One of the things I have been doing is reading my old childhood journals – to both validate what adult me believes is truth, and understand the types of things I was thinking at the time.

One entry reads: “I don’t understand, does my dad like me or does he hate me? I feel so scared without him. I think I’m afraid he’s going to die even though I never see him. I’m afraid.”

I was 11 when I wrote those words – and while I’d like to think I have grown to be a completely different person today – I read those words and I see her. 11-year-old me is 35-year-old me, and vice versa.

If anything, the words I wrote validate that I’m on the right track with my memoir – because those feelings that I thought I had really did exist. The evidence is in the pink teddy bear notebook with a golden lock I smashed open.