This weekend Daddy was in a very bad and anxious mood. When he’s that way his tone of voice and facial expressions are subtly different and it comes off as angry or annoyed. I am highly sensitive to body language, and tone of voice so I feel these changes before he even says a word and I typically interpret them as I have done something wrong. We’ve been working on me trying not to interpret his mood that way because it’s never been about anything I did or didn’t do. Daddy says sometimes you just have to let me be moody and then I’ll get over it.
So anyway, Sunday morning I had just finished painting and he had just finished working on a 3-D printer design and he came upstairs and was ranting mildly about all the things he needed to do today, and I took that as him telling me without saying so “You aren’t doing enough and it’s your fault I’m annoyed.” Of course I was totally wrong but his bad mood triggered me into thinking those things and I started working on one of his tasks he had listed but also started crying. He had gone down stairs for something and when he came back and saw I was crying he hugged me and explained that he wasn’t mad at me and, you know, all the things he could say to make it better. After that I felt better and even though he was still in a mood all day I didn’t get upset again.
So yesterday morning I was thinking about it and I sent him a text about my thoughts. He was downstairs and I was getting ready for work. He came upstairs and had full blown tears running down his face and said that was the most beautiful and sweet thing to say and then we hugged for like 5 minutes. I thought I would put what I wrote to him here because it actually is pretty.
The moral of this story is that I need to continue to work on regulating my emotions and triggers and trauma. In my 20 year marriage to a narcissist I developed certain sensitivity to things and I think that’s why I get so upset if Daddy has a mood. But back to the moral, learning to love in safety means unlearning what fear once taught me.
It means noticing the tremor before the storm and choosing stillness instead of panic.
It means trusting that his silence isn’t rejection,
his sigh isn’t disappointment,
and my worth is not something that shifts with his mood.
Every time I stay calm, breathe, and let love speak louder than fear,
I rewrite a piece of my past.
And every time he meets me there…with patience, tears, and tenderness…
we both heal a little more.
Here is what I wrote to him:
”Even when the world presses too hard against you,
and your breath catches in the thorns of old memories,
I see the man beneath the storm.
Your voice will sharpen,
your brow gets it’s little wrinkle, but love does not disappear in those moments.
It trembles, waiting,
just as sure as morning finds its way back to the horizon.
Sometimes my eyes fill with tears,
not from hurt, but from loving you so deeply
that your pain echoes inside me and the idea of disappointing you is devastating.
And always,
you return with open hands,
steady voice,
heart soft again.
You’re the man who wraps my ache in gentleness,
who builds safety out of apologies and quiet touches.
I love and cherish you every moment of every day, Daddy, even when the moments are heavy.
Especially then,
because that’s when I see your strength most clearly,
not in perfection,
but in your willingness to reach for calm,
to choose love over pride,
to come back, again and again,
when the world has worn you thin.
That’s when I feel closest to you,
when your walls are low
and your heart is honest and trembling.
That’s when I know
what it means to love someone fully.
To stay, to soften,
to be both anchor and ocean
for the man who is always my home 💕