Coffeeshop Thought

My twenty-first July 4th has come and gone. This summer, more than any other, I've realized the incredible growth that I've experienced since moving from Los Angeles.

My sense of self-worth has never been higher. It seems like a lifetime ago when I lived a life and believed in ideas that were dominated by others. While I am positive that this growth was able to occur only after my father's departure from my family, I sometimes wonder who that 11 year old girl would have became if otherwise. "I'd have 2 babies by now if I stayed in LA" is a joke I've used with various friends, but there lies real truth behind it.

I have this theory that because my father so blatantly belittled my being I ran and looked to the opposite sex for comfort and affirmation in my beauty and ability. It is the cliche "daddy issue", but I'm not embarrassed to say that it was my own.

I don't hate him, nor do I ever wish that he wasn't biologically responsible for me. Because for all that it's worth, I am a product of him. Through his neglect, I was able to find independence; through his abuse, I was able to find my own strength. I, however, do not love him. When speaking of him, it is hard to refer to him as my "father". He has sinced moved back to Nigeria, and started a third life for himself there.

Today, I see myself in this light: I am able-bodied, I am educated, I am passionate, and I am capable. I see my flaws, which are my impatience and my self-isolationist habits. I still mistrust and distance myself from everyone other than my mother, brother, sister and best friend, but I am trying hard to unshackle myself from this. It is one of the last things holding me back from creating relationships with others.

I still will never live in Los Angeles, as beautiful as the weather is. I don't think I will ever be able to dissociate that city with the person I used to be in the environment I used to be a part of.
While I'm done complaining about a time long ago, I will never stop being proud of myself. It is not the arrogance of someone who has found success that I demonstrate, but the gratitude of someone who has survived.