The Fear of Touch

Daddy's little girl, when I hear someone say they are Daddy's little girl I think back so many years ago, back when I was a small child. I remember how difficult it was growing up in my family, not because of financial difficulties or poverty; we were what some would have considered upper middle class. It was difficult because my parents were both young and did not yet know what love was.

When born I was a very sick baby and I had an older sister that was still in diapers, this put a great deal of stress on my parents. My parents wanted a boy mostly dad did. Having another child so soon was a big strain on my parents financially and emotionally especially because I was so ill. Mom really didn't want me but did the best she could to try and love me. Mom had very little help that was not critical or judgmental of her choices.

When I was first born I stayed in the hospital for an extensive period of time due to my illness. That did help mom to be able to get some things done at home that she needed to do. My family was a very close family mostly my father side was around as my mothers side lived very far away.

I am not sure when mom and dad began to experiment with drugs, alcohol and other poor choices, but my sister and I just did not fit in with that life style. My parents fought a great deal with it escalating to extreme violence most of the time.

When I was just a few years old my mom gave birth to my younger sister. This brought about even more stress on my family. I remember my parents having knock down drag out fights, almost killing each other a few times. They began to sell drugs to support their habits as well as the 3 of us kids. The police had raided our home several times before I was even of school age.

At about 5 or 6 I began to question the love between me and my daddy. At first I thought I was having bad dreams. Even making excuses of bed wetting to explain away waking up without any clothes on. My life at this point started to change it was changing in ways that I had not really understood. I felt very close to my dad in fact I often found myself hating my mom for making him so angry; angry enough to beat her. I received most of the love he should have been showing my mother which made me hate him more.

As time went on I had so much anger, hatred and confusion for my mother that it became very difficult for the two of us to communicate. I did not understand why she was letting these awful things happen to me, why didn't she stand up to him and make him stop hurting all of us, Why did she have to be a drunk?

My parents indulged in a lifestyle included multiple sex partner, drug sales, guns and extreme violence. Why would any parent allow their children to be exposed to this terror? I would go to the homes of my friends and they didn't live like this, why did we?

Mom became pregnant again this time it was a boy. I remember dad telling her she finally got it right if in fact my brother was his son since she would sleep with anyone. Living in this home started to take its toll on each of us kids. My older sister hid out in her room most of the time lost in some novel, my younger sister began to steal anything that was not nailed down. My brother he was almost immune to everything that was occurring in our family, maybe because of his age or maybe because of it being the norm in our home.

As for me it was drugs, at first it was cigarettes, then a little marijuana that I could snag from my parents stash. It wasn't long before I was introduced to the hard stuff, heroin. My best friends had become a metal spoon, a lighter and a rig. I had to find a way to stop feeling the pain not just the physical pain of the endless beatings both of my parents would deliver, but the private "daddy's little girl" time that would take place during my mothers drunken blackouts or while she was gone.

I loved my daddy, but I could not understand why he had picked me, what made me so special or what I did to deserve this kind of love from him. I always thought that if I just did as he asked then maybe he would be happy or things would change in our home. The heroin helped me get away to another place, a place where I thought I had control over my life.

As time went on the "daddy's little girl" times became more often and more intense. There were times that I would just shut my eyes and think about getting high so I could feel better. I couldn't get serious with any boys as my teen year grew close because my dad made it very clear that it was not going to be tolerated.

When I was 15 my parents decided that they didn't love each other anymore. My dad had found a young girl who was interested in him, so they divorced. At barley 18 this young girl was 3 years older than I. she was a mother of a small child and an addict herself.

My parents sat us down and asked who we wanted to live with. I remember thinking I will only live with him if one of my sisters go so I can protect them. Then thinking maybe with a new wife he would not need "daddy's little girl" time any more. My next thought was what if I stay here with mom she doesn't even like me, what if she beats me to death in one of her blackouts.

I sat awaiting the decision of my siblings. My older sister and bother wanted to live with my mom but my younger sister wanted to live with my dad. I started to shake with fear as I didn't want for him to ever touch me again, but more importantly I did not want him to touch her, so I choose to live with him.
The decision I made that day to subject myself to further abuse was one of sacrifice for my little sister's innocence. This decision was a fearful one for me but living with my dad was a good choice. I was never again subjected to another "daddy's little girl" moment and my life began to move into a new direction.

Rehashing this experience has been extremely difficult for me. Looking back I can honestly say that without these life lesson I would not be who I am today.