Damaged Goods

My mother turned my father away when I was a little girl and life as I knew it changed forever. I was left alone with an angry and confused woman while my father's futile attempts to return home were muted.

He married another woman. I never saw him again. He died in 1997.

I cried for my father, but was told to shut up and stop being dramatic. "Men are only good for one thing," sneered my sister and mother. I was confused and alone.

My mother and sister were abusive and apathy forged its way into my heart. This vacancy...this left me vulnerable to predators.


Rejection bathed, followed, and tormented me for a long time after the separation. I become overly sensitive and easily offended. My relationships suffered and I often viewed life through a darkened veil.

I was clumsy and awkward stumbling my way through womanhood. My marriage suffered because I didn't understand how to help my husband.  Men seemed like odd and complicated creatures whose needs were daunted by my insecurities.

Someone once told me I was damaged goods. Yes, maybe so, but so was Mary Magdalene. And look what Jesus did for her.


I have learned to turn to my heavenly Father who guides and instructs with complete perfection. I am no longer alone, but do miss my earthly father. I wish I had gotten the chance to grow up with him, but then maybe I wouldn't be who I am today. I like who I am.

I can still feel my father's touch and his laughter resonates in my soul. He smoked cigars and I have one hidden in my journal. I might smoke it one day because my journey involves eccentricities that only the Hurt and the Healer can understand.