Your dad is the first male figure you’re given in life. His example single-handedly defines what manhood is to you. My dad just so happens to be the best human being to have ever walked this planet.
Although this is a wonderful blessing for many obvious reasons, it has also resulted in an all-too-high bar that I’m convinced will leave me forever alone.
Girls who are close to their dads face unique kinds of “daddy issues,” and it’s time our voices are heard. Here they are:
As mentioned above, my father is the best human being to have ever walked this planet. Needless to say, standards are pretty high.
Lots of guy friends.
Many of my closest friends are guys and they really are just friends. I don't secretly harbor a deep love for any of them, and I’m definitely not sneaking into bed with any of them at the end of the night.
Having a close relationship with my dad has given me the ability to do something that I’ve noticed a lot of girls can’t do: carry on a truly platonic friendship with the opposite sex. This is all great until the guy you’ve been hooking up with glances at your phone and sees you texting five other guys.
No void to fill.
If I’m not into you, odds are I won't hook up with you. If you’re a d*ck to me, odds are I won't talk to you again. We’ve all heard about this “void” for a male presence some girls have in their lives, and I do not have that problem.
I won't waste my time with anyone I genuinely don’t want to spend time with.
Promises are no f*cking joke.
When my parents first got divorced, my mom and I moved two hours away from my dad. I was obviously pretty bummed, so he promised me that if I ever called him, no matter where he was or when it was, he would drop everything and come.
As a young child of divorce, I really put this promise to the test, and he did not fail me once. If he was able to get woken up at four in the morning just to drive two hours to hang out with me for five minutes, I find it really difficult to understand why you have to cancel dinner on Tuesday.
Not 100 percent clear on why I shouldn’t be the center of your universe.
Yes, my dad spent countless hours driving in the middle of the night in the pouring rain just to hang out with me for a few minutes, but he never complained about this.
In fact, I’m pretty sure he had a blast. We would hang and grace each other with our equally awesome presences. This leaves me extremely confused as to why someone (for the purpose of this article, especially someone of the opposite sex) wouldn’t want to drop everything to hang with me.
If I can’t imagine a guy hanging with Dad, he is officially and irrevocably deemed a giant lame-ass in my mind.
Before I even introduce a guy I’m hooking up with to my dad, I imagine the two of them hanging out. If I can’t imagine them enjoying some Blue Label on the rocks while they LOL at each other's equally hilarious jokes, it doesn’t matter how nice and successful he is. He’s dead to me.
He will probably meet Dad much sooner than is socially acceptable.
This is not really a huge deal in my book. Odds are if I hooked up with you at all, I already knew you’d get along with him.
My dad is a part of my everyday life, and no matter how casual we are, if we are consistently hooking up, you’re taking up a substantial portion of my days. The two of you are bound to cross paths.
Although in my mind this in no way means I plan on marrying or even dating you, most guys don’t share my point of view.
I am absurdly confident.
My dad thinks I rock, and honestly, he’s right about most things, so I think I rock, too. This leaves me with some inevitable problems when I go ahead and let my freak flag fly a little too high.
Potential lover must be similar to Dad in some way.
My dad set the example for what I deem to be a man, so if you don’t have at least a few things in common with him, it may sound dramatic, but it’s really honestly hard for me to picture you as a real man.
Feeling creepy about comparing a “potential lover” to my dad.
This one’s pretty self-explanatory. When you suddenly realize the guy you’ve been hardcore crushing on is a 20-something version of your own father, there is an unavoidable pang of nausea.