Al my life I have had a certain attraction to older men. One could just look at me and if I found that connection, that little bell that went off in my head, was willing to give him my all, no matter what. No matter if he was married, no matter if he was seeing others, no matter if he decided for others to see me. I did it all, for them. But every time, over time, that bell would fade, because the man I was with was not what I needed, not what I wanted.
You see, I was always a daddy’s girl, a rough-houser, a tree climber, a runner, a ball catcher, a kicker. I was more like my dad that I ever had a connection to my mom. So when dad left when I was 8 to live with his new girlfriend, and all I was left with was a mother who did not love me, and quite quickly came to see me as competition to men she wanted to hook up with while the men often had more interest in me, part of me was lost, and I have been looking for something to fill that hole ever since. The only problem is that the replacement dads always not just wanted to fill that hole, but all my holes.
All of that broke something inside, and I have never been the same. Part of me is still 8, kicking the ball around in the backyard with dad, my dad, and I still miss him.
Mom never let me see him as I grew up, and kept any letters he sent my way. She was overly protective, and I didn’t have a a word to say about it edgewise until I moved out… well, I basically fled. And that is where my life took a turn for the worse, though at the time, I thought it couldn’t get any worse.