My Obsessive Father

Let me go. Leave me alone. I don't want to do that and many more sentences like these that have ruled my life. This going to be a story about how I cut the cord between a father that, I want to say was but is still obsessed with me.

I am the first born in my family, a girl. My father always wanted a boy, maybe status or some other shallow reason he cannot admit. We are four people, me, my sister, mum and dad. My mother is English and my father is Turkish, they decided to live in Turkey which looking back im so glad they did. We lived in a small town called Bodrum, it has gained popularity now but back then it was a heaven.

The family dynamic was that my dad worked and my mother stayed at home. She was basically a housewife which I think she enjoyed for the most part. I was very loved when I was a baby i had both my parents attention and I was the favourite. I was my mums gift and my dad's project.

Growing up I had four years before my sister joined the family. I was very accustomed to having all the attention but I l was so happy when my sister was brought in my life that I didnt feel any less loved. I just wanted to be with my sister all the time. Our childhood, as much as I can remember was pretty good until I actually start to remember.

Shouting, beatings. That started to be my life. For some reason as I was growing up my dad became aggressive like very. Walking on eggshells. I didn't even know that was the term for that until very later in my life. I was a master at it. I could read him like a book. I knew when to talk, how to walk, sit, stand, breathe, everything. That being said it was a hit and miss and sometimes I misread.

I was brought up to not be a girl. I say it like that because I wasn't allowed to do or be anything that the other girl were doing and being. I was told not to like certain stuff, not to wear certain stuff. It was weak to be a girl. For my dad this was the worst thing I could ever be, weak. He would say how women are always one step behind men. They don't have the chances men do to fail. I wasn't allowed to fail because if I did, it was because I am a woman.

This worked for a time to push me to be better in life and there is some truth to it whether I want to admit or not. Women have it hard.

I wanted to be a ballerina. The girls in my class were all going to ballet. I remember I would watch them all with their pink tutu's. I thought it was the most beautiful thing. I wanted to dress like that so much. You might be wondering what my sport was. Well it was on an all boys football team. Not that women can't play football or that it's not a girls sport. It just didn't feel right for me. I was always with the only girl on an all boys team which was weird. Also I just didn't like it.

He didn't want a girl. I knew it. I hated being a girl for it, I hated what I liked, hated how I wanted to dress, hated my thoughts, feelings everything. I hated myself.

I started to get older and was able to make some decisions by myself but by this time I was so brainwashed I didn't have any girl friends and despised girls in general. I would think they were just beneath me and I was somehow better. Not thinking that I am literally a woman.

When I started having opinions and ideas well, let's just say it got messy. He hated it. He felt like he lost control and it would show. It got to a point I wasn't allowed to leave the house, I was eighteen. He would give me jobs around the house which I didn't mind but the problem was how he would give them. The best one was when it was six in the morning and he would slam my door open and make me pick weeds out of the garden for hours. I have many more like this but I will spare you the details for now.

The phone. I would get about fifteen calls a day, every hour to check where I was, who I was with and what I was doing. Even though he would have all this information he would still drive to where I was, sneak up on me or just watch me from afar and call me to tell me he is always watching me.

It kind of sounds like I escaped well I'm still trying to figure this out. Love and obsession. Only now twenty three years of age do I understand the difference. The difference between how it feels. Which is quite sad because I always thought that was love. Probably the reason of why any relationship I have ever had a has been abusive and I never felt like I was loved.

Im learning though. I see it so clearly now. How lucky am I to be able to learn what love is all over again. I made a promise to my self that I will find friendships and relationships that are built on the basis of love. I now know exactly what I don't want to feel. It really is a blessing to know what you don't want.