“When I would see young girls run up to their fathers and hug them, my insides would scream “Don’t do that! Stay away from your father! No, no, no don’t hug him!” Even now, so many years later, I have to hold myself in silence.
On my wedding day, it was time for my father to walk me down the aisle. Not wanting to take his arm, but forcing myself to do so anyway, all the while my insides were so disgusted with me and screaming, “No, No, don’t touch him! He’s going to hurt you again!” Not knowing why I didn’t want to take his arm.
Not understanding the turmoil inside of me, because all of the secrets were so deeply hidden, but controlling me. I berated myself for the feelings I had toward my father as we approached the stage. I started to cry. Not tears of joy. It was a hard cry that started from the depths, out of nowhere and I couldn’t stop it. My shoulders were shaking and my father was trying to calm me down. I didn’t understand what was happening to me. Why was I so upset? This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life. There was such a relief that washed over me when I was finally released from my father’s arm and I took my husband’s arm and held on for dear life.
Only then did the tears and sobbing begin to subside. When we received our pictures from the photographer, I noticed that the long stem roses that I carried were backwards. The stems were sticking out over my arm instead of the roses. I was a wreck on the inside, but the smile that I held covered up what was really going on inside.
Years later, when I owned a restaurant, a daughter in her fifties brought her father in for lunch. We started talking and she told me how her father had loved her and supported her through her dreams and failures as she grew up and how he was always there for her. She adored her father. It was so prevalent in her words, her actions and the pure joy on her face. As her father listened to her, he said, “I
would do it all again. You are a wonderful daughter.” Then gently turning to me, he continued to tell me stories of how he was so proud of her and how he appreciated her.
As I stood there just amazed at their lives, I felt such deep sadness for a relationship that I never had or would never have with my father. I
was so sad for all of the years that were wasted and lost. Years lost to the forbidden, hidden secrets that were buried so deeply, never to be spoken of.
God created us humans in such a way that there are reset buttons in our minds. There are places for trauma to be set aside until we are strong enough and ready to work through it. God is amazing in how He loves us so and how He walks gently along side each of us every day, as He did while I was going through the horrors of the forgotten memories, reliving them and then the healing towards freedom.
In his last years my father said to my brother, “I never thought Cheryl and her sister would hold out so long.” What a sad observation. I/we weren’t holding out. I was waiting for him to get counseling so he wouldn’t repeat this horrific abuse, call it for what it was, apologize and then we could take steps forward. How do you move on from something like this? I could not have a clean, free future with my father without acknowledging the past, calling it for what it was and beginning over. I was willing, but I also set healthy boundaries and requirements. Only then can you move away from it.
If you don’t label it and deal with it and both parties work through it, then it will come right on into the next chapter with you. I was not in any way shape or form allowing the past to be a part of my next chapter. My father had a chance to make amends, but he chose his pride over a relationship with his daughter. I wasn’t worth it.
Cheryl Bloom, April 2024
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