Daddy's Girl, part 7314

(N.B. So I write about blowing a guy in the bathroom and my stats go up by 900%.  It would seem that a sex blog about sex might be more popular than a sex blog about angst.  But I must say, if you're someone who read my blog for the first time because I wrote about blowing a guy in a restaurant, you have really low standards for erotica.  I would recommend the Anne Rice Beauty trilogy and Safe Word by Molly Weatherfield.)


So, I have daddy issues.  Duh.  For the last three years my dad and I have been planning a trip to Europe and my dad and I were planning enough for next summer that I had started to organize work around it.  Today, my dad cancelled on me.  And he did it rather cavalierly.  There was something he would rather do and he wasn't sure if he was in good enough physical shape.  He is now feeling strong enough and so, there it is.

I was devastated, more by the cavalier way he presented it than by the actual cancellation, which I had been somewhat prepared for.  (He has cancelled several other years on this same trip.  I had given him numerous outs before this point but he didn't take any of the outs before this.)

My dad hates it if I reason with him.  And then he accused me of 'guilt-tripping' him and then I just started breaking down, weeping all over.  Which of course makes me feel like shit.  Horrible.  I've been off the phone for an hour and I still feel like I've been run over.  Interestingly, it actually made my dad stop being so matter-of-fact and look at the fact that he has routinely cancelled on me and I am continually feeling like I'm his back-up plan.

I wonder to what extent I assume men will just cancel on me and assume I'm their 2nd best option because my dad always treats me that way.  I wonder if I bring men into my life who will do this because it feels familiar to me.

I don't always buy into the psychoanalytical stuff because it feels to me like I am pretty aware of my patterns and that awareness doesn't seem to change them.  I don't know how to change what I feel and I wonder if I'll be always that little 5-year-old girl brushed to the side.