At first I wasn't sure how I would start this birthday-Instagram-caption for my Dad (yea prepare yourself for some touchy post that doesn't have anything to do with your life, mianhaeyo) but then I thought, I just have to start typing.
Let me tell you about some trivial things that make us father-daughter; perfectionist at the centre of our souls, super duper mega idealistic when it comes to our own principle of life, appear to look younger than our actual age *hehe*. Growing up adopting his traits grows numbers of gap between us. Other than the word ‘gap’ maybe I can safely mention it as ‘unshared interests’.
We don't talk about boys/men I like, or at least about how we agree on the ideas of finding a future boyf/hubb *cringewhiletypingthisiwannadie*. We don't talk about our political views, despite the fact that we both pursue(d) studies in politics. We don't talk about how annoying or how inappropriate it is for woman to be a victim of catcalling-men out there. We don't talk about how researchers predict that by 2050 earth will be populated by approx. 9 billion souls. Etc.
There are many things that we don't talk about. I bet at this point you, random Instagram-caption-reader, start to wonder, what are we talking about then?
Being Vulnerable
It was a really sensitive week for me by the end of last year. Everything just seemed to sound and feel wrong, that my eyes suddenly turned to be an explosive water banks. If I should put this on a poetic imagery, a huge burden was laid on my shoulder as I expected something bigger from myself.
I just cried and cried, with tears streaming down on my red puffy face.
With arms crossed on his chest and highly concerned face, my Dad said that he would find a solution and I needed to stop worrying. As simple as that.
I'm telling you that it's about some kind of 'weird' bond between a father and his daughter that's barely seen but simply felt.
As far as I'm concerned I had never intentionally cried in front of anyone to show how some conditions affect my vulnerability. I mean, to admit that you feel extremely disappointed about something up to a degree that you cry so hard takes real balls to do so. But with my Dad on my side, I just did. He didn't express the need to elaborate the problem from A-Z just to thoroughly discuss the 'why it happened' instead of 'how to solve it'.
Maybe it sounds like it’s nothing for some people, considering that this case was all about a nature of a parent and his child. I took it seriously differently. Because the hardship and pressure that I was under, wasn’t even the actual matter, but the way I was bold enough to open up to somebody (who happened to be my Dad) was the time when I felt a sincere affection without unnecessary affection involved. And the way somebody (who happened to be my Dad) could do so much by doing less, is what really matters.
That night just passed with a huge relief and gratitude.
Reflection
I’ve never been scolded by my Dad, the last time he got actually angry at me was when I was 5 years old; my Dad was on the phone and I played along being super noisy, and then he slapped my butt hard until I cried to Mom. At least that’s what I can remember. Even if I make mistakes as an adult my Dad seometimes directly asks me what happened and exchange ideas on problem-solving.
Before the previous story I just told happened to me, I thought I was being princess-ed all this time. I kinda interpret it in slightly different way. My Dad has been protecting my feeling from any kind of harmful emotional ups and downs, that he would rather not scold me instead of making me feel bad whatsoever (hardest part to type….no….tears start flooding……).
To wrap things up, there are times when I don't feel like blabbing about the whole world on and on. By the end of the day, glancing to my Dad's presence means my whole world shaped in a human body, with thousand of unspoken words whisking away in silence.
Out of many old pictures with him, where I was being hugged or squeezed, I think this one suits the caption best. The noticeable distance appears while I'm looking up to things that my Dad teaches me, ensuring that I feel comfortable living life of blessings.
Happy birthday, Papa.
Originally my Instagram caption for my Dad’s birthday. Unfortunately there was words limit on caption box so I had to post this here.