In my younger years, when I totally objectified women, I’d say that I’d want to have a daughter, someday. Women to me, like most young dudes, were more complimentary than anything else. It wasn’t so much that I considered them toys, or playthings, but I was convinced that the ones in my life were there for my personal amusement. (I still feel that way…) Plus, I grew up with a lot of platonic homegirls, & only a real gay guy wouldn’t prefer the company of a woman over man. In my young mind, that was all tantamount to wanting to be some little girl’s daddy, one day. [Sidenote: What I meant by "real gay" is the stereotypical feminine attitude. Like, they might fight over shoes or something, if they hung out. No shots.]
In between my daydreams of unwanted parenthood & right now, something weird happened. Not only did my affection for women go through a period of near-addicted levels (read: massive genitilia whorage), but I made a daughter along the way. Wish granted, so to speak. & to sweeten the deal, God gave her a twin brother. I’m not sure if that’s for her protection or my karmic retribution, but it’s a blessing, twice, nonetheless.
What people may, or may not be aware of is the metamorphisis a man goes through when his daughter is born. It’s actually quite remarkable, granted the potential daddy is more than just an unfortunate sperm donor & has the opportunity to do some real-life fathering. (Child support isn’t fathering, it’s financing.) It’s a pretty brief transformation, in that you literally
should wake up one day caring about how women feel & stuff, starting with your own daughter. Once I saw my daughter do things that actual humans do, like breath, it lifted the anonymous veil I’d been putting on all females, for years. It finally dawned on me that all those broads were real people, too, & the only reason I didn’t have to deal with their “real” side (emotions, interests, etc.) was because I simply didn’t have to. With my daughter, however, her bullshit & problems became mine the day we met. She’s 10 now.
I’ve always been an advocate of keeping your homies away from your family if possible, unless you’re in the mafia. Now, I’ve restructed that belief to focus on my daughter moreso than anything else, for obvious reasons. These homies are the same cats you’ve ogled & disrespected women with, since forever. All of a sudden, because your little girl is born, they’re supposed to clean up their acts? No dice. Tigers don’t change stripes, especially for other tigers & their cubs & what have you. Remember all those times when you & your crew would break your collective necks just to watch a chick walk past. Now, imagine that chick being your daughter, because eventually it will be.
Not for nothing, but you already know what homies to keep your daughter away from. Do it now, because she’ll be 18 soon.
So Dads, whilst we fancy ourselves protectors from outside dangers, keep in mind that you were one of those “dangers” before you inherited a person to grow. Your friends, most likely, are still a part of those “dangers,” & that fact only gets more animated with the actuality that every girl you’ve ever done anything with was/is someone’s daughter. Indeed, that rationale changes the game. Or, at least it should.
Obviously there’s no way to stop dudes from perving out, but it would behoove us dads to pay close enough attention to the ‘tang hounds in our immediate circle. If you don’t have a requisite ‘tang hound in your circle, that means you’re him, most likely.