Tastes Like Shame

My dad has never been proud of me.

That's just a fact. I was always one of those overachieving, desperate-for-approval kids, and that spilled over into my adult life. I like to think that I hit pretty much all of the standard checkpoints that proud parents want to see their kid achieve. I did everything right.

Here's a recap of my charmed existence:
I never once got detention.
I never failed a class.
I was in the "gifted and talented" class all through school.
I was always in the 99 percentile for those annual standardized tests.
I got great scores on my SATs and ACTs.
I was a Girl Scout for 13 years.
I was active in sports throughout school, and I did a decent job.
I graduated high school with Honors, Distinction, and my name was in the commencement package more than anyone else in my class: as a member of the German Honor Society, National Honor Society, National Forensics League, the Journalistic Honor Society, the Honors class, and as the designer of the damn thing.
I got a full-ride scholarship to two good colleges.
I got into an elite private university, where I double majored.
I've never wrecked my car (knock on wood).
I've never been arrested (knock again).
I didn't end up pregnant, in rehab, behind bars, etc.
I've held down decent jobs since I was 16.
I worked my way up from the bottom of my company, and I'm now a department manager overseeing two teams of professionals.
I'm well-paid and consistently recognized at work for my achievements.
I'm in a healthy, committed relationship of nearly eight years.
I own a nice house and a nice vehicle and I go on nice vacations on a regular basis.

Basically, I've lived my life to be a good kid. I'm not bragging. On the contrary, I wish I would have had more fun when I was younger and would have focused less on being perfect. But I never got into trouble. I worked hard. I make good money. As far as my parents know, I'm a healthy and wholesome person (they don't need to know about my college exploits, and as bad as I was in college, it never affected my school work, my grades, or besmirched my pristine reputation with something like a criminal record).

Most parents would be proud.

Not my dad.

As someone so desperate for approval, it was always so soul-crushing to know that my dad was never, ever proud of me. Sure, he was happy that I graduated. Happy that I'm working. I guess it could be worse. But I've never felt him look at me with anything akin to pride.

Until Friday.


We were at a memorial for my aunt's boyfriend who died suddenly of a stroke last week. On Friday, the entire family gathered at my aunt's house for a ceremony (including the release of dozens of tie-dye balloons, some bright Chinese lanterns, and a rousing version of "Rambling Man"...a totally fitting tribute for the dude who died). I was in the kitchen, hovering over my healthy bean dip and trying to ignore the cupcakes, cookies, pumpkin roll, and pie sitting next to me. I heard my dad calling me into the front room so I wiped my face and shuffled in there.

He motioned for my grandfather and great-uncle to look at me. I stood there and my dad stood next to me, and he waved his arms at me and said, "Doesn't she look great?!"

I felt faint. At first, I thought maybe it was a cruel joke. It certainly wouldn't be the first time. But no. He truly wanted to show me off to his own father. I smiled and self-deprecated ("Oh, yeah, haha, I still have a ways to go...").

Well...it was pretty surreal, but he looked proud. For the first time ever, I felt like he was happy I was his daughter.

I quickly made my way outside to collect myself and I felt a little sick. I mean, yes, my dad is a total asshole (or see here or here...). I shouldn't have been surprised. But it made me really sad that it took losing weight to finally win his approval. I feel like if I ever gain this weight back, his pride will again turn to disgust. Maybe that's for the best--I don't need someone around who discounts everything else I've done with my life and who only cares about what I look like. This pride feels an awful lot like shame.

But still...it's nice to feel like I've made my father proud. Finally.