Rebel & Deuteronomy 22:5

(my father would never tell you who this is.lol)

Don’t we love our parents to death but sometimes they are the last people we want to invade our space? Our parents raise us to look up on them as gods. Or maybe they don’t. Probably the „rule of nature“ finds its way to interpret the love and admiration we have for them as such. We also sometimes get torn between having respect for them and fearing them.

Looking back into my childhood, my father was everything for me. My first male love. I shared with him everything anyone gave me. I would keep half of my food for him. He was the first person I would report anyone who messed up with me to. He always brought something back home. Wafers were the best thing I remember him always slide his hands into his suit pockets to empty. He was almighty. He was always right. He protected me and rightfully did so because that is what a parent does.

But times as I grew I couldn’t tell if I respected him more than I feared him. There were rules in our house. Spoken and unspoken. You couldn’t just do whatever pleased you. But most children are rebellious and I was one of those. Silently. Not dramatic. There are things my dad didn’t allow me to do and one was do my hair, actually not even grow it. He liked me to cover my hair for whatsoever biblical teachings and laws about what women are supposed to be and do. He was raising a child who he wanted to eventually be Gods child in his own understanding.

I couldn’t even wear anything I wanted to. Short skirts and trousers were a NO NO for his girls. Piercings were another no go. Any time I had to visit my relatives he reminded me not to pierce my ears. It was hard for me to hang out with my cousins who were „allowed“ to do things I wasn’t allowed to and would have loved to. Although some of my female cousins used to wear cinderella dresses on top of jeans because they were also not allowed by their fathers to walk in only jeans.

So I remember there are times I dreaded having my dad come back home. At some point I was mostly tensed when he was around. Growing tits and wanting to rebel so much had me at times think I „hated him“. I wanted to were crop tops before all the love handles happened and let the sun shine it’s rays on my belly button. In kikuyu, (Guotithia mûkonyo Riûa) But where?

These certain rules that were in my house continued to feed this timid girl into a more shy but curious human. I tried a few times to discuss it with dad why it was soo bad if I wore trousers and I kid you not he sat me on the end of his bed and read me Deuteronomy 22:5. I was silenced but not convinced but I didn’t have enough knowledge to question religion.

My mum, stepmom never saw anything wrong with dressing the way we wanted to. We could wear whatever accessories, dye our hair rainbow, put on stilettos or wedges and pair them with a tight/buggy hipster and finish with a smudgy red lipstick and go to church. So long as we remained “good“ children with values and left the pots shining after doing dishes.

It’s hilarious that my sisters and I would conspire with our mum against my dad and dress UP, use the back door to leave the house and keep in contact to know the whereabouts of our dad just incase. Sounds so stupid right now but we did that. I think sometimes if I wore a trouser I would carry a long skirt in my bag so I could slide into it if I happened to meet dad by accident. I was cautious not to sway my shyly protruding hips too much just in case I met dad by coincidence so he wouldn’t be hurt that I was dancing on his disapproval.

A few times we met on the way because he is so unpredictable and you can imagine how much I wanted the ground to open and swallow me. Literally. He would give me that look that had me sweating and I would try have dinner and go to sleep before he came back. The following day be as productive as a teenager can be to cover up the „act“ and give him hope that I was not that bad of a daughter. He never punished me for that, but the lecture he would give me on how disrespectful and disobedient I was, was enough guilt that I to this day have settled somewhere in me. But did I learn and heed? No! I still did it again and again.

To be continued…

In the meanwhile pls share with me something you experienced similar to the above 😬