I guess I am exactly my father’s girl. Growing up, I haven’t been much proud of the title - I have grown to depend on my father on almost everything. But now, at the age of nineteen when my social life has betrayed me and tarnished my life in a cynical way it was almost invincible, I believed I could no longer hate to be my father’s girl. When everyone else broke trusts and betrayed, a father would never let his daughter got hurt.
My father and I haven’t had an amazing relationship but we are closed in an unexplainable way. I am not the last child and that explains why I am not closed to my parents in a way of a last child would but I am close enough to my parents to know that no matter what I do - they could only see the best in their daughters.
While my younger sister was away for a Police Cadet’s camp for four days, I became closed to my parents. I got to have the feeling of a last child in a family; to be able to hold onto my father’s arm like a child and laughed at his silly and lame jokes like how a child would when her father tickled her. I feel so happy throughout the four days. The attentions they have for my younger sister for once shifted onto me, and just me. I am the child that are right in front of them - who they wished good night and asked whether I have eaten or not.
In just four days, miraculously I have become my father’s girl once again. To know that I have a man who will always stand by my side in no matter what kind of situation and would never betray me - it is satisfying.
Perhaps being a father’s girl wasn’t so bad. Well, it has never been bad anyway. Who cares if someone is going to laugh at me for being my father’s girl? I am his daughter and I have to say that I am proud to have a father like my father. The question is, is he proud to have a daughter like me?
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