Hoppy Father’s Day
I am named after my father. I joke that he wanted a boy… or that he’s narcissistic (baby me was going to be Dennis or Denise). We had the typical ups and downs that a young girl, an only child at that, and her protective father would have at all of the appropriate times. Now, we are definitely buddies. I know how he’s going to react, down to the expletive punctuation to his sentences. Our connection is strong and I treasure that. We do have our moments—he’s a Leo and I’m an Aries, both fire signs—but I have never doubted for a split-second that that man has my back 100%. And I’m damn lucky.
And funny enough, he used to call me “bunny” when I was little. It’s like my story was already written…
My uncle, with whom I share a birthday, and his other half have always been big brother/father figures to me as well. So many great men who raised me, it’s no wonder that the bunny-daddy is a damn good guy. I couldn’t have ended up with any other kind of person. Much like my father and uncles, the bunny-daddy is giving and respectful. The bunny-daddy puts his children first, as my father and uncles continue to put me first, even after 34 years (helps that I have no competition in the form of siblings or cousins).
Once I did “the work” on myself and got my self-worth in line, I ready for that higher-level of love and care to come into my life. And I fully thank the men who raised me for showing me, never just telling me, how truly precious, deserving and worthy I was and always will be. With their support, their example, I’ve welcomed and embraced true bliss into my life.
Like begets like. Love begets love. Hoppy Father’s Day.
If you didn’t/don’t have role-model-worthy men in your life, you can borrow mine. But give them back. I need them.