The Tay Greeley Blog

I have daddy issues. As much as I don’t want to think this and I feel I have worked through this trauma, it’s still constantly there. If you’ve followed me for a while, you know I am currently focusing on choosing myself and creating my own happiness, but sometimes its really hard. I have been very open about my anxiety and depression (which consume most of my life). A HUGE trigger for me is feeling as if I am not good enough. Through therapy, I have been working on reflecting as to what the root cause of this is and honestly, it comes down to my father. I have not written about this yet, so this post will be really raw. (trigger warning for some who grew up in a unstable household with abusive parents.)

The background…

My father is a narcissistic and abusive addict. For most of my life, and all of his, Alcohol was always a key factor. Now, I don’t know when he turned to harder drugs (I’m assuming when he finally went to prison – key word, finally). I also don’t know what the harder drugs are, and that is something I did not witness during the time I was in contact with him.

To give you an idea of what this looked like behind closed doors – he is what I personally would consider a functioning alcoholic. I come from a small hometown, and everyone loves him (or loved – not sure what the consensus is now). So many people would light up when they ask if I’m his daughter, most would never know there was an issue. However, as young as I can remember, I would find empty beer and liquor bottles everywhere. As a teen I would be scared to get in the car with him when he picked me up from work, and I always feared the aftermath of what would come when we got home from any type of gathering where “casual drinking” was involved.

My parents divorced when I was 9, we saw him every other weekend. My single mother raised us along side my grandmother who was everywhere a dad should be. One thing to note when you have a narcissistic and addict for a parent or a co-parent, is you never know when they are actually “in a good spot” or when they are just manipulating you. My mother did everything in her power to protect us, without removing him completely from our lives. We still needed our dad – she NEVER pushed to take us away from him.

I guess you could have considered me a daddy’s girl. Second to himself, I would say I was his favorite. There were three main themes to which my father made me feel: He was forced to pay child support, so I was an obligation. I was a woman, so there was no use in expecting success because I should always fall in line behind a man. Last but not least, the most detrimental theme – no matter what I did, I would never be good enough and that means I am a failure.

Thankfully, when we weren’t with him – I was being raised by a village of boss bitches that could do everything men could do and everything they can’t – so I learned very quickly that he was a fucking idiot. Most of my childhood was just this mental manipulation of my self worth, witnessing him take his wrath out on my stepmothers, and him trying to pit me agains my mom. There was a lot of yelling, screaming, broken walls, smashed glass, totaled trucks, and painting a picture to the outside world that we were a happy go lucky family. 

His rage was never completely directed at me, that was until I turned 16. I had my permit and would soon have freedom – something that I can only imagine he feels no woman should ever have. It started with just mental abuse – yelling and just horrific comments. I was slut shamed a lot – even though I had never kissed a boy or even had a boyfriend at this point. I didn’t talk to boys – I went to school, came home, went to gymnastics practice, and spent time with the same two friends.

It slowly started to turn physical over the next 4 months. At first just things like grabbing my harm, chin, back of the neck so I would be forced to look at him while he reprimanded me – but never hard enough to leave a bruise. I was such a good kid, I would never talk back – I would just cry and eventually he would stop. Then after 4 months all that changed.

I went to a birthday party (the dorkiest birthday party you could think of – pretty sure the theme was hello kitty or something). A friends mom picked us up for a sleep over after. When I came home the next day, he decided to make up a story in his head that basically described me as a prostitute – oh wait, he used the word strumpet. There was a lot of slamming, yelling, crying, me packing my stuff and calling my mom after he “kicked me out”. He then decided to throw me down the brick stairs in the front of his house.

The next day, I told child protective services that it was not safe for us to go there and I never wanted to see him again.

Onto the Daddy Issues…

The next few years after that I was a fucking mess. I was still a good kid, always met curfew, my mom knew everywhere I was, but I was reeling from everything I had been through in my life. I was in an abusive relationship during this time, one that I left as soon as it turned physical, but I also collected a handful of neglectful boyfriends.

In my early 20’s I began my journey to heal and grow from my childhood trauma. Therapy has honestly saved my life. I have been able to navigate life with anxiety and depression, and adapt to my PTSD diagnosis in my mid 20’s. I have never let someone call me out of my name – a partner or anyone else – and if someone ever laid a hand on me they would regret that real quick. This is a HUGE improvement for someone who grew up in a home of violence, and something I am proud of.

Taking a collective look at my dating track record, there is still one theme that has remained constant until this point: I date partners that will never make me a priority, leaving me with a feeling that I am not good enough.

I try my hardest to never let my past trauma mitigate its way into any relationship. I am a pretty self aware person and still try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt without being oblivious to reality. When it comes to I love someone, no matter what their role is in my life, I am a ride or die. This often leads me to be walked all over. I have done a lot of work over the last two years learning to put my needs as a priority and to continue to choose who has the right to be in my life.

Why tell this story now?

I have just reached one year of being single. This isn’t a big deal for most, but this is the longest I have truly been on my own since I started dating at 16 – I turn 31 in October. I have been so use to having a life of chaos: working full time while putting myself through school, battling depression, tumultuous romantic relationships, the list goes on.

I was unhappy in an almost 5 year relationship for a long time. It was a constant topic of discussion with my therapist every time we met. There was one trip my ex and I took that set me over the edge. I had been weighing the pros and cons for a while – the only con left for leaving at this point was the dog we adopted together but was essentially his. After talking in circles for about 5 minutes debating on if I actually should end the relationship or not, my therapist looked at me and said point blank, “Dump him and get a puppy.”

The utter shock that was on my face actually made her laugh (we have that kind of relationship). Her point was this: I crave chaos – it basically has been engrained in me since I was born. I have worked over the years to channel that need into healthier options like conflict based TV shows, Books, and Movies, but the need is still there. Puppies are chaos, especially my stubborn asshole. They are healthy chaos and are solely reliant on you, meaning I am needed which is also a feeling I crave. Now don’t get me wrong, I am still mentally and sometimes physically abused every day – but I can put my abuser in a crate and it’s socially acceptable to do so. This dog loves me more than I’ve ever been loved in my entire life, his world revolves around me. We are so connected and have the strongest relationship it’s insane. Between him and Mogli I feel the most content I have ever felt in my entire life – even as I am sitting here trying to navigate the next step in my career with what feels like the weight of the world on my shoulders.

One year ago, I made a choice to put myself as a priorty and made the second best decision I’ve ever made in my life (Mogli is obviously the first).

Why share such intimate details about your life?

Because somewhere there is someone who is being told they are not enough, that they will never be enough, and that the abuse happening to them is deserved. Somewhere there is someone who has settled in a relationship because its not as bad as things were when they were a kid. Someone is actively staying in a situation where they are being verbally, mentally, and psychologically abused because they have not found the strength to leave.

I will stand by this statement for the rest of my life: In order for someone to be in your life, they must earn that right. No one’s presence is deserved, even a parent. Who makes the decision whether or not someone has the right to be in your life? You do.

For those who feel alone, I see you. I hear you. I support you.

National Domestic Abuse Hotline