Confessions Of An Ordinary Whore

Who's Your Daddy

I was always meant to be “Daddy's Little Girl,” at least that's what people would tell me when I was younger. They said I had the right looks for it and everything. As if there's a certain look to being a goody two shoes. I guess these people never realized that in order to be “Daddy's Little Girl” you had to actually have a daddy. Too bad I didn't.

My father was apparently a really nice person and had a good heart. I say bullshit. If he had such a good heart he would've been here, taking care of his daughter not out gallivanting wherever the hell he pleases. People who knew him are always excusing his behavior saying shit like “He was young” or “He just wasn't ready to be a father, that's all.” Well, maybe he should have thought about that before he started acting like some sort of fucking horny moose humping everything in sight. Hell-fucking-oh, there's something called condoms for a reason.

I really don't understand people who run from their problems. Like yeah, you fucked up but now you have to face it and deal with the consequences. That's what being an adult is all about. Judging by his behavior, my father must have never become an adult, he was and probably always will be just a boy stuck in a man's body. I get it, he was young when he got my mom pregnant and for some reason unknown to man, thought the best option was to run away. But come one, you can't tell me that he never aged a day in the last twenty-one fucking years. He's not young anymore, but has he made an effort to ever contact me? No. Has he ever even sent me a fucking birthday card? Maybe in some other delusional reality, but not here. Really, the only option left is that, while he grew physically older, he brain never matured.

The biggest thing that used to piss me off (And actually still does) is people's reaction when I tell them I don't have a dad. Everyone's all like “What are you talking about? Everyone has a dad. How do you think you were created?” First of all bitch, I coulda been made up in a fucking lab for all you know so shut your goddamn mouth. Second of all, just no. Yeah, I understand biology but biology doesn't give you a dad, it gives you a father. Any male can become a father (As long as he's fertile, of course) and it's pretty easy, all you do is spread your fucking legs. But to become a dad is a lot more difficult. A dad is someone who spends time with their kids. A dad is someone physically and emotionally involved with the person they created. Dads don't run off when they find out they've impregnated someone, fathers do. Dads stick around because that's who they are, they're dads. Fathers are just fathers; they're just people who go around shooting their DNA into other people and then leaving to go and shoot it into someone else. Wow, that sounds soo difficult.

People blame my sexual activity on “Daddy issues.” Like I would be some twenty-one year old fucking virgin if I had a dad. No, I think I'd still be having sex, thanks. And I fucking hate the term “Daddy issues.” Hello, not everything I do is a product of not having a dad. There are plenty of girls out there doing the same shit I do and they actually have dads. So why is it that I have “Daddy issues” when I do it? Yes, there are probably some people out there who's actions are connected to the absence of a dad or something but that doesn't mean every little thing a person does is because of that.

“Oh wow, she's dating a guy seven years older than her, she must have daddy issues.” Or maybe she just likes older men and just so happens to not have a dad.

“She's eating a sandwich, she must have daddy issues.” Yeah, it couldn't be that she's fucking hungry. Nooo, that would be too easy.

“I don't understand why she has such a hard time trusting guys and falling in love, she must have daddy issues.” No, maybe she just knows that once you give that much of yourself to a person, the possibility of them hurting you and causing permanent damage has now presented itself. She probably has enough issues worrying about her math homework and doesn't have time for a broken heart. Once it's broken, it can never be completely intact again and she needs that shit to pump her blood around and keep her alive, thank you very much.

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Yay, this book has reach 76 reads! I don't think I even know 76 people in real life, lol. Thank you guys so much, I love you to pieces!

Okay, I hope you liked that chapter. We get to see a little more rambling going on in Elizabeth's head, which I always find fun to write. Some of the things she says are just hilarious, at least I think so, haha.

Now, time for a little self advertising. If you guys could go check out my book of poetry The Silent Screams that would make me the happiest person in the world. I wanna get that book to 100 views and I'd love for you to help me reach that, haha. Also, I just posted a new book called I'll Tell You All My Secrets. It's basically a book about me in case you want to get a better idea of who's sitting here in a dark room typing up all this crazy mumbo jumbo. Just kidding, I'm not actually sitting in a dark room because that would be a little creepy...

M'Kay, don't forget to vote and comment!

Love you more than cookie dough ice cream,

Kay <3