Daddy Issues
A poem about a misplaced diagnosis
You tell me I have daddy issues As if it were something I chose Drafted in the stars of my encoding Before I ever learned to read You mark me as damaged Stamp me as fragile Because I’ve been disappointed And let down by men Again and again You tell me I have daddy issues As if survival were a flaw As if endurance were weakness I have been enduring Since I was born You tell me I have daddy issues I ask you What about these men? The ones who left The ones who made us walk on eggshells and made love feel conditional Why are we not placing the issues where they belong? On the men On broken promises that learned to walk On silence that raised its own voice On love given in fractions Then blamed for not multiplying You tell me I have daddy issues I tell you I have memory I remember waiting I remember hoping I remember shrinking myself to fit inside someone else’s limitations You call it damage I call it adaptation You call it baggage I call it proof I kept going You tell me I have daddy issues I tell you I have strength Because I’ve had to learn to meet myself In all the spaces I’ve been abandoned To sit beside my own echo And not run from the sound These pockets of emptiness I never asked to inherit Still, I learned their language Turned hollowness into room Turned room into breath Turned breath into voice You tell me I have daddy issues But I built myself from what was missing You tell me I have daddy issues I hear you and stand taller Not in defense But in recognition A badge of honor Because what you call broken Is simply a woman Who refused to inherit the limitations Of men unwilling to face themselves
