Gum in My Hair

An embarrassingly honest blog

I. Am Not My Father. September 14, 2010

Filed under: Shut Your Mouth! — dulcedementia @ 3:16 pm
Tags: , , ,

It’s kind of been a “thing” as far back as I can remember. Being the pastor’s daughter. It’s a weird sort of thing to have to have between 50-100 “interested” in your life for the show of fellowship after church.

Let me tell you about something!

Most people couldn’t even remember what I was actually up to and I spent a good deal of time trying to shock the people into not talking to me.

I never went all crazy goth or into slut mode or anything. I just dyed my hair and regularly brought a giant python home from school on the weekends. But it was just enough to keep people uncomfortable with me, but not so much so that the parishioners of my father’s church questioned his ability to raise a child in a good, Christian home. Call it calculated rebellion.

I never felt the need to rebel from my parents all that much. They were open and pretty laid back about stuff. But the collective stick up the asses of the church was just too much NOT to rebel against.

Now you have the background. Here’s what happens today, with the advent of social media.

I have become proxy for my dad. Yet again. People “friend” me on Facebook with a little message, “Hey! I used to know your dad! I haven’t seen him in ages!” And up until now, I’ve been a silly little thing and just accepted.

I’m not going to do that anymore. In fact, I’m going to restate something here that I have said over and over.


The same goes for Twitter, Yelp or anything else I may have an account with.

Do NOT ask me how my dad is doing. Ask him yourself. He has a Facebook page. If he ignored your request, then he probably doesn’t want to talk to you. And when you tell me that line, I know that he purposefully ignored your request because you were an energy suck on his life. He purposefully left you out of it. And I will too.

Here is the standard answer people get from me when they ask, “How’s your dad doing?”

“He’s great. He and my mom got divorced about 12 years ago, and they are both happily remarried. He started and preaches at the only 100% gay-friendly, non-denominational church in Denver. And he voted for Obama.”

Most people read that and tend to have to stop chatting with me right quick due to laundry or groceries or something. Which is nice.

Now. In many ways, I am my father’s daughter. I love the smell of pipe tobacco and the sound of acoustic guitar, simply because of his propensity for both. We’re both open, honest, caring people.

However, when it comes to religion, we are very different. While, I am fascinated by the constructs of religion, I am an atheist. He, obviously, is not.

So, as I get off my soapbox, I will reiterate. Do not talk about God on my Facebook page or Twitter account unless I have opened the forum. I respect your right to an opinion and the right to practice whatever religion you believe.

But if you do it on my wall, I will defriend you faster than Peter denied knowing Christ.

You know that story, right?


7 Responses to “I. Am Not My Father.”

  1. Charli Says:


    I get you.


  2. […] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Kelly Tidd, Marcelo Duran. Marcelo Duran said: RT @dulcedementia: I. Am Not My Father. […]

  3. Jason Says:

    You must have refined your craft over the years, because you don’t need the python to make me feel uncomfortable with you. All you have to do is give the little eye-twitch that says I’m one smartass comment away from a running bitch slap or RDP.

  4. nobleone247 Says:

    AMEN… pun intended.

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