Yes, I am a Daddy’s girl. Since I am also a Southern girl, there is no shame in this at all.
Regardless that I am a forty-something adult woman, it is not only perfectly normal, but socially acceptable for me to still call him Daddy. Not Dad, not Jim.
(In the South, btw, Daddy is actually pronounced \ˈdeh-dē\ or “deddy”)
Southern mamas teach their daughters to be strong women; but their fathers teach them that they are invincible princesses with arcane superpowers who should be treated with monumental respect.
Daddies teach their girls that they are brilliant and beautiful, worthy of love and loving and can do anything they put their minds to: start a business, be an astronaut, be president of the United States, be happy and fulfilled.
My Daddy didn’t raise me to believe that my goals in life were defined by my gender. He taught me to be smart and quick and strong and give my best. And if I worked hard and believed in myself and what I was doing, I could have or be anything I wanted.
He taught me integrity by daily example.
He taught me to win without vanquishing others.
He taught me a love of learning.
He taught me that if I ever borrowed anything, I should give it back better than I got it. Don’t just fill up the gas tank, wash and wax the car.
He taught me to be a good friend and told me that was the most important thing I could be in life.
My Daddy is my hero. Now and always.
One of the (few) benefits of being older is that my father is now my friend. My husband and I not only vacation with my parents, but we have dinner parties with them. We go to the beach together. We enjoy their company. We hang out.
We are good friends.
I am eternally grateful for the strengths he gave me. He not only taught me to believe in myself, but gave me a port in the storm and a shoulder to cry on for those times I didn’t. He has always been there for me.
I am proud to be a Daddy’s girl. My Daddy’s girl.
We pick our battles and fight with the heart of a pit bull while still maintaining grace and elegance. Our mystique is that of a soft-spoken, mild-mannered southern belle who could direct an army, loves her mama and will always be daddy’s little girl.”
– Cameran Eubanks