I’ve written before about how affected I’ve been by my father’s lack of wanting to be in my life since my age of eight.
Nothing has changed. I still keep making the same mistakes – craving affection from men emotionally unavailable to me.
Today I was reminded of this excellent poem by Philip Larkin:
This be the verse
They f*@k you up, your mum and dad
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were f*@ked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.