This afternoon, I heard myself laugh when something made me guffaw. The sound I made was a spot-on imitation of my dad's laugh. I'm very much my father's child in many many respects. I've got his laugh, I've got his sense of humour. There's a lot of echoes of the man I see in myself. It's just that in many ways, I'm terrified of being my father. Part of it might just be adolescent rebellion I never got over. Maybe that's why my hands have arrows on them (he has _exactly_ my hands). I don't know. I just know that I don't want to be him. And I violently don't want to be a "him". Maybe part of my anathema is the fact that dad represents manhood in many respects to me. Fathers tend to be a model for manhood, I guess. And as my friends on the internet pointed out, there ARE ladies that take after their fathers...
Maybe it's just too soon to take comfort in that concept.
Maybe it's because I'm terrified that I'm doomed to be him, that one day, all of my transition will be stripped away and I'll be him. Afraid that my destiny is tied up in this man who can't accept me as his daughter, who holds WILDLY disparate convictions. I wish the obvious impossibility of that potentiality was a comfort.
I feel uncomfortable saying "I'm my father's daughter" when I would proudly joke about being his son. But the language isn't equitable. Just as with the boy I hung out with, sometimes my language doesn't quite fit. You can't just fucking SWAP boy-words with girl-words. Doesn't have the right weight to it and there isn't a good counterpart. I ain't a goddamn "Daddy's girl". I just didn't fall far from the tree. I want to celebrate the positive elements of the fella that he and I have in common. It just raises obvious discomforts where I want as much distance as possible.
Somtimes I don't like to hear myself laugh.