Daddy

  Today I had my first ever therapy session. I cried, and had a lot of feelings brought into the forefront that I have been suppressing for quite a while. Many of the feelings were regarding my relationship with my father. I plan on posting another piece of writing soon, going more in depth on where I’ve been recently, but for right now, I wanted to share this poem that I wrote months ago about my dad. I didn’t plan on ever posting it publicly, but maybe some of you can find comfort in knowing you aren’t alone. 

*********

when i was a baby, you would take me fishing with you. 

i would hold my little pole, and sit on my little chair. pretending i knew what you were talking about. 

it’d be 5 minutes before i’d get bored.

to occupy me, you’d tell me to go grab the worms.

i always did.

that was my job, even though i almost always ended up playing with them.

sometimes i’d just watch them moving in my hand, other times i’d throw them in the water. 

you laughed, after all, I was only 3.

you caught many fish, and i didn’t. 

i was too impatient, but i still loved going. 

i loved being with you, and learning.

i loved my daddy. 


one day, i did catch a fish.

it was a big one too.

i remember you being so proud

of course, you helped me.

and i held it as you took a picture of me

a picture that is still posted on the back of our front door

a picture that is frayed, with yellowed edges 

a little girl with a big smile, and her proud daddy.



the last time it was just us, we went fishing.

out on the boat, during the spring.

it had been years since we had gone.

you said you didn’t think i’d get up early enough to go.

i almost didn’t.

but i decided to.

because I didn’t know the next time we’d be alone like that.

and i wanted to make one more memory with you that would give me a smile.

we caught many fish that day. 

i did what you taught me, and ended up catching even more than you 

and when we were done at the end of the day,

and i looked at your face

a face now sagging with age

i saw the same look of pride that i did when i caught my first fish at 3.

a look i hadn’t seen for a long time.


i wanted to say so much to you that day. 

to take my chance 

to have the conversation we’ve danced around for years. 

to yell and scream 

to ask why you decided to abandon raising me

why you gave up on me when i needed you most. 

why you resent my independence 

my femininity 

my queerness

my intelligence 

me.


but i also wanted to tell you how much i miss you.

how i just want things to go back to how they were when i was little 

when i was unaware of the choices you were making. 

i want to dance around with you

to play games together 

to go out to eat

to laugh 

i want my daddy back. 


but i kept quiet.

you offered to take a picture of me and the fish I had just caught 

i obliged and handed you my phone 

i smiled for the photo

you did too.


when we were done, you said that was fun

and that we should do it again soon 

i said yeah, we should.


as we packed up, you asked me to grab the worms

and i did. 







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