November 20, 2009

Fathers, Be Good to Your Daughters

Daughters will love like you do.
Girls become lovers, who turn into mothers,
So mothers be good to your daughters, too.

Well, I'm back! I'm assuming I'll probably write more in the coming week because of the break from school and all.

Anyhoo, it's [Non]Fiction Friday, so here's a monologue I wrote in Kate Hawkes' acting class. I also performed it for one of her Performing Wellness events. I was waaaaaay nervous. More nervous than I can remember being for any show I've been in.

Well, it speaks for itself, so here it is:

Daddy's Little Girl (monologue)
by Moi

Your life? What about my life? What about my feelings? You left me. Before I even got a chance to know you, you left me. I didn’t get a second to see your face or hear your voice or to smell your cologne. I didn’t have any chance to pick up on any small detail that I could keep as a memory of you.

“My dad is a lawyer,” Susie said.

“My dad is a doctor,” Jenny bragged.

What was I supposed to say? “My father is a prick and I’m a bastard.”

That was the truth, but I couldn’t tell it. So, mostly, like any other imaginative child, I made up stories. Instead of using my imagination to fool my classmates into thinking my dog got taken by a UFO, I had to come up with stories about why you were never around when my friends came over.

Until I got older and I realized that, I didn’t need to lie. You had never done anything for me, so why should I have to cover for you? You left me; I didn’t leave you. I have always been here.  Year after year, I would sit around wishing to get a phone call from a perfect stranger. I wanted to know you. Why didn’t you want to know me? I wanted a dad and not a father.

When I was younger, I used to wonder, why is it that Jenny and Susie got dads and I got a father? All I ever wanted was to be “Daddy’s Little Girl” but really, I was just my father’s illegitimate child. Your actions made me ashamed to be me, and that is not okay. You took away so much of my confidence and you never even said I’m sorry.

But I’m all grown up now and I see that I didn’t need you to show me how to climb a tree, and I didn’t need you to teach me how to fix a car. I didn’t even need you to be my dad. I didn’t need you. I don’t need you and that is the greatest realization ever. Because now that I understand that, I understand who I’m not. But more importantly, I understand who I am.

Well, yet again, thanks for reading. Talk to you guys soon.

Title Song: 'Daughters' - John Mayer
(not usually a fan, but this is a decent song)


Alessa said...

Wow... I had a lot of father flash backs... I don't really have a dad either. I definitely have a father. It wasn't until he had his heart attack that he decided it was time to be a dad... and even then it's not really happening.

This blog made me kinda of sad. But the monologue was intense! You are one talented writer.

Either way, not a bad (non)fiction friday

Bryan said...

Jamika, that was really effective. I really liked it. I can undertand partly where you are coming from, know, a less-than-present dad...but your situation is completely different. I miss you! i hope you have a good break from school :)

Alessa said...

It really is true, the one parent comment. I don't know what I would do with out my mom. She is my best friend. She has been a mom and a dad to me and that's all I needed, her.

I totally remember step-by-step. Well, I am kinda the tomboy so the name works. A lot of people in my family call me Al, and so one day I was listening to Paul Simon's "You can call me Al" and it made me laugh... so I changed my blog title.

It's true about your monologue though. It was pretty amazing. Intense! I can see why Kate liked it so much.

scribblesofdreams said...

Pretty much one of the most real and truthful monologues I've ever read. It hits a spot inside all of us.