The older I've gotten, the more Father's Day has affected me. I grew up in an extremely racist, homophobic, HIGHLY abusive, southern pentecostal household. I was beaten regularly, went to school at one point telling people that I was in a car wreck because my eyes were both blackened by my dad. I became very violent in my small hometown, fighting people non stop, even hospitalizing some, literally. I became "That emo dude you don't fuck with because he'll fuck you up" and I took such pride in it, but I hate it now. I always hated hurting people unless they hurt someone I cared for. I was never allowed to be friends with gays or black people, but i did anyways because in a sense, i related heavily to then, being the black sheep of my family, silenced, ridiculed, and oppressed by my own family. Hell, I once got a blow job on a school bus by a black girl back in my teen years. It was videoed, sent around the school, to my youth leaders, and to my father. He found it, and me being a 5'5 sophomore in high school and him being a 6'5 300 pound muscle giant, I tried to fight back, even busted his nose, but I was beaten within an inch of my liHe'll, sought solace in my friends and made them my family, rebuking everything that my family had tried to teach me. Many were blessed enough to be raised on love and hope. I was raised on spite, rage, hatred, and survival, but I always made this promise, and I've said it since i was a teenager, "I'll never let them take my heart" so I've still got that after so many years. Anyways, I graduated high school in 09, I didn't go to college, and I didn't do anything that he would've done. Instead, I moved away, lived homeless, lived in a tent, lived on a park bench, literally at some points had to fight for my food, did a couple of jail stints, never addicted to drugs, just highly violent, suicidal, and a bit of an alcoholic. At one point, I had my neck slit, I was stabbed in the left side of the stomach, and stabbed in the left ear. I survived, maybe from pure spite alone, I don't know. What I do know is that I get so jealous seeing so many people my age, out with their dad's, having a bond, a close relationship, and seeing them smile with their kin. I'm not used to envy, but as I sit here at this burger joint alone, watching guys my age have fun with their old man, it makes me smile for them, but it makes me hurt so fucking bad. Like, why should I give a fuck? Why should I care? Why can't I just be happy in seeing others happy in what I don't have. I've always said, "Until it's my turn, for others I will support" but I'll never have my turn because half the time I don't want it. Other times, I get jealous of those that never knew their dad's because they could've been like mine. A gift and a curse kind of thing. Unfortunately, I don't know why, but I love that dude. I long to have my dad in my life, even though he's so fucked up and evil and prideful and hateful and violent. I love him so much and I despise that about me. Why do I want to forgive? Why do I want those who don't want me? I haven't spoken to him in 10 years. I have children of my own now. A 5 year old little boy and an eleven year old little girl and I do everything opposite of my father, but I see some things I hate of him in myself. No, I will never lay a hand on my children, nor will I stifle their dreams, nor will I make them ever believe that I won't back them 100 percent of the way, but I look just like the guy. My anger makes me walk away rather than explain things the way I need to. I'm very critical and I expect nothing but excellence leaving no room for error, believing that they have to be the absolute best at whatever they do. I'm also harshly critical on myself, but for good reason I believe. I don't know why this day is so hard for me. I hate that it is. I hate that I love despite the hatred and rage I've been shown. I'll just sit right here, have my beer, another shot, and wish everyone a happy Father's Day.
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So my dad thinks everyone’s demisexual and demiromantic after I explained demisexuality and demiromanticism to him-
Dad, ily but that’s not how normal hormonal teenage allocishets work, your child/daughter is aroace pls you're just as oblivious as me ;-;
(same with my mum)
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I’ve started doing this thing when at night I’ll sit on the couch next to my dad and I’ll play a song from the mechanisms and then he’ll respond with whatever he’s listening to, then we switch back and forth. Last night’s went:
- red signal (me)
- washing machine heart (him, his coworker said that mitski was the best so he listened to her albums and got hooked)
- losing track (me, it’s my personal favorite
- metal machine music part 1
Then we just kind of sat there and listened to the whole 16 minute long masterpiece before heading to bed
We Keep Doing This
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Funny thing with having a nerdy dad (gamer and knows a descent amount of what is going on on the internet) is that we can talk about games/shows that my more internet aliterate mom doesn’t quite understand.
Now why am I saying dis?
It’s because this factors into that I know my dad’s kins (his blorbos if you will) and I am seeing a pattern…
They
All
Are
DICK HEADS
Little bastard men
And it’s not just a select few no no no no
It’s all of them
And the worst part? I understand why he kins them… because he is just as much of a [effectunally] bastard as them
Remove the atrocities, leave the personality and that’s my dad right there
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in honor of the nimona movie (it’s so good i’m gonna scream and cry for the next million years) i must share my favorite nimona art ever
drawn by ND stevenson ofc and posted on twitter a few years ago i believe
do i even have to SAY anything? the shark, it’s not rocket surgery, baby nimona, the DOMESTICITY of it all im gonna explode
UPDATE!!!! GAY DADS AU THREAD https://twitter.com/gingerhazing/status/1676058949504892928?s=46
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me, talking to my dad and reflecting on my teen years: I had a lot of internalised misogyny in year 7
My Dad: No U Didn't.
🙃🙃🙃 Like sir. 🫠
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