“I am not your porcelain doll” Yeah.

“You want to cradle me like a little girl/And lock me down/I’m not your possession/I’m a full grown woman/I am not you porcelain doll” –Chrisette Michele “Porcelain Doll”

I’ve witnessed a reoccurring phenomenon in my life that I feel the need to address.

I have two daddies.

An Amazing Heavenly Father – who loves me beyond belief.  And as if that wasn’t enough He saw it fit me to bless me with an Awesome earthly father.

Two daddies.

Count it.

One. Two.

I say all that to say that I am not a part of the group of females in my generation that call men other than my fathers “daddy” – not seriously anyway – case in point songs like the one that says this “Daddy. I’m calling you daddy. Will you be my daddy…come and make it rain down on me”

Negative. You will Not find any of that foolery here.

I say all that because it has recently come to attention that I am “that girl”, the girl that people tend to want to adopt into their family and usually that’s cool.

I’ve gotten used to it. I’ve been told it’s the old soul within me. I completely understand. But in addition I have also become the girl that is “the sweetheart” in the sense of being young, naïve, innocent. For me, the problem comes in because now that I have emerged into womanhood I’m still seen as the damsel in distress, the lost little girl in need of guidance and direction. I’m still pushed aside and verbally run over the way little children are. Children are cute and funny and entertaining for a while but no one takes them seriously.

People still describe me as “cute” and I’m aware that it’s in the same way that babies and puppies are cute. And I’ve accepted that.  Unfortunately that view has caused the majority of my guy friends to feel a certain sense of “obligation” to me and that their duty is to protect me from the big bad world and all the scary men in there – that’s a nice way of saying they want to be my daddy and baby me. My parents raised a strong and confident young woman. I don’t need a man to tell me I’m sexy. If that’s the word I’m waiting on I may never get it and that’s fine. I already know that I’m beautiful. Both my Heavenly and earthly fathers have reaffirmed that and I’m good.

My large eyes and bright smile tend to be associated with a child who is bewildered with amazement. A lot of my guy friends either start out being attracted to me or become attracted to me but that attraction is negated by their desire to protect me as if I was their baby sister who can’t do for herself. I become a burden of sorts to them. Even my earthly father knows better than that! I’m his child and I’m as stubborn and strong-willed as he is. I’m overly analytical and I can think for myself. More importantly God has got me. He’s all the protection and direction I need.

I’m going to have to start being more blunt about it and letting them know – I’m not your little cousin, I’m not your baby sister, I’m not even your best friend. I don’t have to run all my decisions past you because quite frankly your opinion is simply that an opinion and it doesn’t matter. I already have an instruction manual with which I must line my life up. Stop telling me that you need to meet my future boyfriend/fiancé/husband so you can approve because you’re approval doesn’t matter. You’re not lending me to him. Because I’m not a possession and even if I was I don’t belong to you. Telling me that if a dude ever crosses me the wrong way you and him will have problems doesn’t impress me or make me see you as any bigger and badder and certainly doesn’t make me think of you as my big brother or even my little brother or even my brother at all.

I have one brother.

And I love him and even he can try to act like my daddy and I have to let him know too. My relationship with my brother as it is with my older sister and my younger sister once she becomes of age is one where he can express his concern and he can help me see myself and certain situations at the very least from another perspective. I simply cannot have every guy friend I know trying to fulfill that role. As of lately these guys make it seem like everybody wants to be a teacher and that they themselves cannot fathom that they might learn something from me.

So just for the record. I’m not drowning. I don’t need you to be superman and come to my rescue. I’m good. There is no damsel in distress here. No lost little girl with no sense of direction and as of right now no man for you to be asking about.

It’s just Cara-Marie. I’m not a possession. At 5’0 I’m a full grown young woman. And I’m Not a porcelain doll. No matter how cute I am. 🙂



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