I confess. I would’ve liked to have been called somebody’s “Princess.”
As a very little girl, of course. Long before the black eyeliner, Army coat, and bag of weed in my pocket.
Sometimes, I wince inwardly when a dad talks about making sure his daughter knows she’s his princess. Every father should make sure his daughter feels beautiful and special and loved, absolutely. But girls like me never saw ourselves this way. I have never felt like princess material. I may have even gone out of my way (with the Army coat and the weed) to make sure no one suspected me of wishing to be anyone’s princess. That way no one can mock you for failing.
When I was four, my parents divorced and my dad left the country. It’s hard for a kid not to take abandonment like that personally. Hard to ignore the inner voice whispering you aren’t lovable or he would have stayed. Hard to ignore the nagging sense there’s a gaping hole at your feet and there’s no one to catch you if you fall.
By the time I was 15, I’d learned that fathers (and their replacements) were deserters and bullies who were critical, perverted, self-serving, or unappeasable. After years of receiving conflicting and demoralizing answers about who (and whose) I was, I no longer pined for a daddy. That ache had been thoroughly cured.
And I sure didn’t feel like anybody’s little princess.
When I was 17, my mom and I were both brand new Christians, on our own again and trying to start our lives over. Then mom said she was getting married. Again.
Wonderful. My first thought was to leave the new couple to their blessed new life and go my own way. I was of course so grown up. So I told the new man in Mom’s life I was happy for them and would be moving out shortly. The guy burst out laughing. Not exactly the reaction I expected. And he kept on laughing until he turned red. Once Robert composed himself, he somehow talked me into staying a little while longer.
It didn’t take long to realize my mom had married a psycho. He’d often say things to me like, “HI, HONEY!!!” (Robert doesn’t have a low setting on his volume control.) And “You’re so NEAT!” And “You’re such a pretty girl.” Okay, great. Another perv.
And my favorite: “I SURE LOVE YOU!” To which I wanted to reply Whatever, man. There’s no need to butter me up, she already married you. Save your breath because I’m not buying it. And don’t be getting any ideas that I need to hear that stuff, because I don’t.
(Sorry, yes, I was a jerk. Holey hearts have a way of growing thick, ugly shells.)
But the guy just wouldn’t stop. No matter how much I stiff-armed him, Robert kept telling me I was pretty. Neat. Special. And that he loved me.
You know, a rock hard heart can only take so much of that.
When I accepted Christ at age 16, I understood that Jesus died for me out of love, but I struggled hard with the whole Father God thing. God the Father was certainly far away—like in another country. Maybe he was like my dad who only thought about his kids every five years with a postcard bearing foreign postage and stamped “Airmail.”
But in time, Robert’s persistence finally wore down the shell around my heart. Not only did I begin to accept his love, I found myself needing it. And eventually, that persistent love helped me grasp a life-changing, heart-healing truth about the huge, persistent Father heart of God:
There is a Father whose love never fails.
See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! 1 John 3:1
Do you know without a doubt that you are God’s beloved child? If not, I encourage you to let the truth and grace of his word pour over you. I’m praying he will show you without a doubt. You are a son or daughter of the King of Kings! And so am I.
Hey! I guess that makes me somebody’s princess after all.
And thanks, Dad. I love you too.
For a similar Along The Banks post, see: What Would You Say To Little You?
Thanks for sharing!!!
Thanks for “hopping” by!
Wow, this is really beautiful, honest and real – thank you for sharing your story. I’m so glad the walls came down enough to let love in 🙂
🙂 Thanks!
[…] Wildflowers from Winter: She confesses. She would’ve liked to be called somebody’s “Princess.” […]
What a great story! So glad that love wore you down in the end! And I’m so glad that God’s love can break our stony hearts and give us soft ones!
Amen. God is good that way. Ez 36:26!
Thanks for sharing your story.
Hi Cheryl – thanks for stopping Along The Banks!
Beautiful, thanks for sharing how God’s love broke through! He is so good!
Amen!
Okay – how are you able to make me laugh and cry in the same paragraph?? Camille – your writing is so evocative and real – exactly how I like it!!
Thanks for sharing this story, friend. What a beautiful, much-needed reminder. That God is our Abba.
Thank you, Katie. And thanks again for hosting these stories. I can’t wait to read Wildflowers From Winter. I’ve heard awesome things…. 🙂
Please take a moment to read some incredibly powerful stories at Katie’s blog today: http://katieganshert.com/faith/wildflowers-from-winter-blog-hop/
Growing up without a dad, I struggled with the same feelings. Isn’t God’s grace good?
Amen! His grace still amazes me…. 🙂
Another great post, Camille. No doubt it will encourage many.
Thank you, Jan. Blessings to you!
I just wrote a post about God as Abba the other day. I’m so glad He’s redeemed what that means in your life. Thank you for sharing!
Look how he comes through for us all, no matter our background or circumstance, Lindsay. I’ll check out your post. Thanks for sharing!
The reason I love my step-dad so much is that, not only was he decent and kind, but he chose to take me on, even after raising two of his ‘own.’ When a father chooses you, it makes all the difference in the world. So glad my heavenly Father chose me, too.
Thanks for sharing, Camille.
Love that, April!! And He does!!
Beautiful, Camille. Your stories have really touched my heart. Keep on keeping on–both in writing AND life!
Thank you!
This is so poignant and gritty. Just amazingly told with such thought provoking reaction. So very well written.
Thank you, Karen! God’s patience and persistence still amazes me!
Wow, what a neat story. Yes, sometimes you do have to go through some bad rocks to find some precious gems. Like you accepted your stepfather’s love.
Right. Some of us (meaning me) are slow that way… 🙂 And truth be told, even now, long after passing the struggle to forgive the “bad rocks”, I am seeing some of those from my childhood through adult eyes and understanding things that give me a Christ compassion for them. A kind that goes beyond forgiveness. (Will be heading into forgiveness soon I think…) Thanks for stopping by, Cecelia.
Beautifully written testimony! We are princes and princesses in His eyes. And, I am so glad He sent an earthly father to love you, to be His hands and heart, leading to Him.
Amen, Cecilia.
Beautifully honest post Camille, I love your vulnerability and courage to share so others can heal. Praying your ministry keeps on giving and the Father keeps on drawing you in so you can share more! I Tweeted this so more can find you, you sweet sister! And yes, I hated the princess complex too but now I’ve got one and wow is it cool to see her daddy show her the love she deserves and has available through Christ. 🙂
Thank you, Jess. So good of you to retweet! 🙂
Reblogged this on Along The Banks and commented:
I am re-posting this in honor of my “Dad” Robert L. Montgomery. Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I love you too.
Love the Dad and Mom and the Sister, the Step Brother and the Step Sister.
Love the Brother
:0)
[…] Nobody’s Little Princess […]