My Heart Belongs to Daddy

This post is on a subject that I have been trying to write about for many months, but until now I’ve not been able to get it clear enough in my mind to set down. It is about what happens when the relationship between a daughter and her father gets distorted in childhood, and I have seen the effects in my therapy work in a large number of my female clients. I suspect that it afflicts many submissive women, and it may indeed be the primary driving force behind many D/s relationships between a male Dom and female sub.

What makes the father-daughter wound so hard to describe is that the consequences in the life of the daughter can be as varied as they are far reaching. Relationships, career, social life, home life, all can be affected. There may be uncontrolled rage or helpless timidity, fears and panics or iron-clad defences, frigidity or sexual addiction. There may be a relentless searching for the right relationship, or a life of lonely isolation. Almost any psychological polarity can get played out as a result of this wound.

The problem begins in ways which are equally diverse, although it all amounts to the same thing – the unavailability of the father to help his daughter grow up. For some fathers the only role he plays in his daughter’s life is to impregnate her mother. Some leave when the child is young, some die, some fall victim to illness, alcoholism, mental health problems, some are involved in other relationships or get stuck permanently at the office. Some fathers may be physically present, but are emotionally unable to be the positive representative of masculinity that the daughter needs to develop. Other fathers are all too present but in the wrong way, in that his needs take priority and hers are neglected.

I can describe the origins of this problem, and I have seen many examples of the end result, but the precise mechanism of what occurs in between is still elusive to me. What appears to happen is that a fragment of the daughter’s personality never grows up, leaving an abandoned and needy child behind as the rest of her gets on with life.

To get an image of how this works dynamically, imagine a house representing the daughter’s world and personality. I will call her Jane. In the house, hidden away so that no-one ever sees her, is a child who I’ll call Sarah. Although Sarah is never seen she can make her presence felt, often by the negative emotion she creates or the damage she causes. When Sarah is in the room Jane may feel unaccountable fear, or rage, the need to drink or slash her body. If Sarah mainly appears in the bedroom she may inhibit Jill’s sexuality completely, or fill her with inexplicable sexual passion, and any man who shares the room may find himself struck down with impotence, or filled with aggression and violence. If Sarah appears in the kitchen Jane may suddenly need to binge on chocolate and ice cream. In the bathroom she may force Jane to spend hours in front of a mirror, examining blemishes on her face that are virtually invisible to everyone else. Sarah may reveal herself through smashed objects, accidents, lost friends and crazy relationships. Not that she always has to be dramatic, sometimes it is unaccountable moods of emptiness and depression that show she is around.

Occasionally a father-figure of a man will appear, the type of person for whom Sarah is permanently searching. When this happens she shifts into high gear and will use every resource she has to get from this man the thing that she needs, which is fundamentally the key that unlocks the door to womanhood. Despite the phallic imagery the key is not usually sexual – rather she needs someone to believe in her, to admire her and hold her in a non-sexual way, and to be proud of her. All too often the man doesn't have the key to help Sarah, because what happens naturally in childhood under good conditions is much more difficult to achieve as an adult. The man may be overwhelmed by the strength of Sarah's needs and demands, he may be confused by the mercurial changes of mood that occur in Jane as Sarah comes and goes, or he may just take advantage of her neediness and then leave.

If he is strong enough to set some firm boundaries which help Jane and Sarah to feel safe, he may then find himself cast in the role of the Good Father. This indeed feels good while it lasts - every man loves to be admired and looked up to, but this situation is inherently unstable. He would do well to remember that it is not his personal qualities that are so admired, but the fact that he stands for a psychological archetype of enormous power. Carl Jung used the term ‘numinous’ to refer to the other-worldly, supernatural feelings that arise when an archetype is activated. The man becomes larger than life in Jane’s eyes, as her own feminine archetypes respond to his masculinity.

Sooner or later the man will give cause for disappointment, which is inevitable given the strength of the idealisation and adoration that Sarah has for him. The illusion is shattered, the hero is deposed from his pedestal and experiences the full force of her frustration.

Many men beat a speedy retreat at this point, an experience which is all to familiar to Sarah. However, if he can tolerate the anger and keep his nerve through the recriminations, it will slowly abate. After all the anger is no more directed at him personally than the idealisation was – it is Sarah’s rage at her Bad Father that is being expressed.

Provided there is a strong enough relationship with adult Jane the crisis will pass. Then he may be privileged to watch as Sarah slowly emerges from the shadows, tentatively letting herself be seen. Bit by bit she becomes ever more stable and solid, ultimately joining together with the adult Jane to form a new personality who is more than just a merging of the two but a completely new individual – perhaps we can call her Sarah-Jane.

The process that I describe here is only one of many variants, and the course it takes will depend ultimately on individual personalities. It is slow and perilous, it can take years and there are many pitfalls. It is the process that Jung called Individuation. There is no guarantee of success. Some therapists can help, some can’t – some have the knowledge and personal qualities to facilitate this process, some don’t, some even refuse to acknowledge its existence. Mostly the outcome depends on the relationships that are formed along the way, and the degree of consciousness that can be maintained by everyone involved.