Dad, Thank You for Raising a Strong Woman

“Dad, you’ve ruined me for marriage.”

My sister and I both said this at one point in our lives, and we meant it…but not in a bad way.

There are men that are such incredible fathers and husbands that daughters resign themselves and basically say, “That’s it. My standards are way too high. I’m dying alone with cats.” But again, this pickiness does not come naturally; it’s only the by-product of having a good example to look up to.

So without further ado, here are the eight reasons I’m grateful that you’ve absolutely ruined me for marriage,

Thank you Dad for always opening the door.

Whether I’m five years old or about to graduate college, I’ve never exited the car without you attempting to get to the door first. Now you have two incredibly strong-willed daughters, so this was no easy task. Nevertheless, you insisted on power-walking to our side of the car before we oh-so-independently flung the door open.

Thank you Dad for buying your wife and daughters flowers for Valentine’s Day.

Yes, the holiday itself has always been dumb and stupid in nature. However, no matter how cynical and strong-willed a woman becomes, a small part of her heart wouldn’t loathe receiving a bouquet on the fourteenth of February.

Thus, you would wake up at 5 AM hours before anything else would stir in the house and drive to the local grocery store before the flower rush.

So no matter what, my sister and I would wake up to roses from someone we loved every Valentines Day.

Thank you Dad for being the most patient man alive.

When you first taught me how to ski, I would literally “pizza” my entire way down the bunny slope at the astounding speed of one foot per hour.

When you taught me how to hit a baseball, you would literally spend hours slowly picking up all thirty plastic balls I left in the gutters across the street.

When dinner was ready every night, you had to wait for me to finish my Oregon Trail computer game before you even touched your food, even after a long day at work.

Your patience made me realize two things: one, I need to hurry up in most aspects of my life. Two, I should never be with someone who belittles me for my lack of time management.

Thank you Dad for treating Mom like a princess.

You worked from 9 to 5 every day, five days a week.

You would come home exhausted, though you would never show it.

Yet you would still kiss my mom hello, ask her about her day, and pour her a glass of wine before you even got changed from your work clothes.

You prioritized her every day, and you made her feel like she deserved your full attention.

Thank you Dad for never raising your voice.

Let’s be honest — I could be a real brat sometimes. Being the strong-willed teenager that I was, my stubbornness reached all new levels of angst.

I was awful at washing dishes, terrible at leaving the house on time, and even worse at doing what tiny chores you asked me to do. You asked so little of me, and somehow, I still managed to half-ass an already simple task.

However, you never responded to this insolence with anger. You would respond with kind and calm criticism, telling me how I could improve my work ethic.

You taught me the value of kind guidance, and how much more effective this can be than unbridled rage.

Thank you Dad for not letting me date the jerk.

You know the one: the much older, gun-wielding, all too forward, part-time DJ who sent me a “hey you’re legal” text with a winky face on my eighteenth birthday. Yeah, he was a keeper.

I was devastated that you would not let me date the bad boy because, in my eyes, he was a dashing prince with absolutely no ulterior motive.

But you did the right thing and said no. You told me that this boy would not appreciate me for my interests, my intelligence, or my passions. I did not understand at the time; in fact, I heartily disagreed. Yet your suspicions proved to be correct.

Thank you Dad for being supportive.

I was terrified that nobody would come to my senior project recital. After four manic months of writing, directing, and promoting, I did not think that fourteen butts would appear in the seats in the spring of 2014.

However, you and mom went through the effort of printing the poster for my recital, ironing it on matching white tee shirts, and wearing it with pride for the whole day. You made certain that everyone who saw you knew who your daughter was, what she was doing, and how proud you were of her.

Thank you Dad for letting me control the narrative.

As you know, our bedtime stories were some of the most collaborative works of art this world has ever seen. I would make the girl be the knight in shining armor that rescues the dude in distress, and you would go along with my atypical plotlines.

You taught me that a woman can rescue just as much as she is rescued, and she can provide help as well as asking for it.

So it may not have been the easiest task, but you eventually raised a strong-willed child into a strong-hearted woman. Props pops.