The question above has been the backbone of my inner contention since my late teens. Other questions entered my mind growing up such as “What is a Man?” Is he supposed to be like my father that caused my existence here? Or is it another man i choose to raise me during my time on this planet?. The Yoruba have a saying that you “choose your parents” but why would I choose such an abusive father? . Maybe I exist to break the generational curse of my family.
Maybe my life success will be to learn from my father how to not be like him. The memories never go away,I have tried accommodating him in my life as an adult but it has been too difficult as I am triggered by his very voice.Its hard to write this paper. Its hard to think of him without the bile of hate and anger and melancholy mixed together converging between my heart and mind. Avoiding the gory details of events that happened while growing up with my “father”, I am grateful now to allow the many ways i choose to not be like him. I am grateful that he has taught me well. I just need to rid myself of the memory. I just need to rid myself of the emotional and psychological pain that comes from every triggered visit. I need to rebuild the confidence that my Self did not know about. I need to rebuild the courage that my Self did not know about.Wishing is what it is ,it never erases history…I need to stop writing this paper….
