When I lost my father, I had to learn how to find myself

He was an absent dad for the most part, and the hurt he left behind has taken many years to heal. But even in the hardest of times, there have been lessons to learn about the power of standing strongly on your own

One day in 2003, standing on a stage, performing poetry at a spoken word show that I had put together, I spotted my dad in the crowd. An incredible sense of relief engulfed me.

It was as if he was the only audience I needed to have in the room. My mother was also in the room, but my dad being there replays like a scene in the movie and evokes the same emotion each time.

I have taken that image with me into my adult life, using it to help me resolve some of the issues that surfaced in my relationships, particularly the issue of trust and the anxiety I had about being let down.

It seems like a cliché, but my dad (who later took his own life when I was 22) was terrible at showing up for me when I was younger. My parents divorced when I was young. He never paid for my school fees, and he hardly showed any support for my academic and other endeavours. He seldom called to check how I was doing.

I have always kept that torch of disappointment burning. I even passed it on to some of the intimate partners I had in my adult life. The hopes I had for them, the immense responsibility that came with that torch they carried from the gaping hole my father left was overwhelming in hindsight.

Even the smallest deviation from a semblance of emotional and other availability would be met with the full might of years of disappointment.

Marriage has been something of a game-changer, where I recently found myself in a position of relying on someone for my upkeep.  Months ago I decided to go independent. I quit my job to run my agribusiness full-time.

A decision that would mean that, even though I’d be hustling to grow the business and get some freelance writing work, I would be vulnerable financially, depending on my husband as a financial back up.

I haven’t felt that vulnerable since the young girl waiting for her dad to show up for her, financially and otherwise. I had to let go of all the insecurity and anxiety I had around being taken care of. The idea that someone else would be my safety net as I walked this tight rope.

A series of panic attacks, disagreements, and reflection on how my anxiety manifests in my relationship has led me to confront the real issues. To have a chat with that young girl, and talk her through what it means to stand on your own, to be your own saviour and the sole custodian of your happiness.

I’ve started to understand that even as others, like my husband, come into my life in a meaningful way, they cannot carry me across treacherous seas without me getting wet or hurt. That, somehow, we have to bring out our own lifeboats when we need them.

It’s an uncomfortable lesson. One that is an extended metaphor as I navigate through the hardship. The base lesson being one of learning to let go of the hurt and disappointment of my father’s absence, and give rise to an appreciation of the moments we did share, the creative gene we’ve always shared, and the resilience that has brought out in me. Here’s to healing!