Estranged Daughter

This one in particular dear reader has been the most troublesome thing I’ve had to “overcome.” Clearly, I still struggle with the notion. I don’t consider myself a misandrist, but as another little girl who’s been taken advantage of by those with a third leg. it’s easy to hate you guys. It’s not me, it’s you. I’m not here to spread hate dear reader, I know admirable people are everywhere. I just need you to understand the aversion, I’m in therapy trying to heal just cut a traumatized girl some slack. As far back as I can remember my mom has had a roster, men at her beck and call. Do not misconstrue this statement dear reader for the quality of men in rotation are almost always atrocious. Truly bottom of the barrel people, fresh out of prison. Men addicted to drugs and still living in 3 quarter houses. Several Married men, and her fair share of drug dealers and alcoholics. Men with few teeth, and never a vehicle. A couple pedophiles too, my animosity for old men started way before it was popular. It started before I could even read a book, I learned different lessons as a kid. While my peers learned about the continents and memorizing our multiplication charts. I on the other hand just figured out I could only get a full nights sleep when my siblings would gather in my room, and I could sleep by the door. I don’t think I hate men, I think I’m terrified. While I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown at six years old my mom was a city girl. A nasty one, no flights to Dubai, no designer not even one bill paid. My mom used to just give it up to anyone who would have her, for free. I’m not going to slut shame now, but I’ve said it before when you have children. You live by a different code of conduct, not my mom though. I remember as a child she used to take all of us to the city, eight kids packed in one of those 2000’s Chevy trailblazers. Lapped up is what we’d call it, and we’d all laugh so hard as we stacked three children high in one seat. She’d bring her friend with even more neglected kids, and we’d hit the block. We’d cruise around until the adults found a park that met their standards, usually just a graffiti’d slide and a group of men shooting dice. They’d send the kids to go play, while they sauntered around the park trying to get the attention of any onlookers. This one time it was men racing their RC cars at the park, the remote control ones that go quite fast. Succeeding in gaining the attention of the strangers our moms quickly seized the opportunity. Next thing you know only ten minutes at the park and all of us kids were being summoned back to the car, it was time to go. I wasn’t overly dramatic dear reader, there were really seven kids that needed to fit in that trailblazer. Plus the three random RC men that were coming home with us. You can imagine how uncomfortable the ride back was, I forced the little ones in the trunk. Us older kids sat at the feet of these strangers, pressed against them for the duration of the ride. Those men spent the night and I never saw them again, that was a normal Saturday for us.