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My father called me a disgusting, fat pig and said I should have been ashamed of myself. He said to others he was proud of me while he said to me I was not worthy. He loved me when I was good and played by his rules. But I was not his daughter when I didn’t do what he expected of me.

Finally I got to the stage that I believed he loved me because he showed it to me once. One true, very strong manifestation of his love in 24 years. That’s how I felt. My sister-in-law says he loved us very much. Everybody says he loved me very much.
But I also remembered one case when he behaved inappropriately towards a vulnerable person. Do I really want to be loved by someone, father or not, who did an unforgivable sin. A sin I cannot talk about. A sin for which there are no excuses. It makes me feel sick from the very bottom of my human existence.

I am not my father’s daughter. I am me! And I do not ever want to be associated with him at all.

I can run 10k!
I am not a disgusting, fat pig and I am not ashamed of myself!
I am attractive!
I am loveable!
I am worthy!

Not because I am his daughter. Not because I am anybody’s daughter. I don’t have to prove anything. I am what I am and I am all these and I am capable of doing anything I want to do.

My therapist is proud of me. 

I’m OK with me.

Ever since I remember every time I wanted to lose weight and be fit and healthy, I started the routine and then something weighed me down. An anchor chaining down and not letting go of me. 
This anchor was my father’s words.

And this anchor is gone. Remembering what he did took the anchor away. His words no longer hurt me.

So now I know I am able to do things.
I no longer have the anchor to weigh me down. I’m on my own and started walking from darkness to light.

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