Part 1Boundaryless Dad, Online Plea, Family’s Remorse

I had a happy childhood, loved and spoiled by my parents. My only problem was my dad. He still treated me like a little girl, with no sense of personal boundaries.

I finally couldn't take it anymore. “Dad,” I said one day, “can you please knock before you come in next time?”

He agreed, but nothing changed.

I told my mom how uncomfortable it made me feel.

She just laughed. “Your father adores you, Lily. He’s held you in the palm of his hand since you were a baby. He saw you crawling around naked in your crib. What hasn’t he seen?”

A lump formed in my throat. “But I’m not a baby anymore.”

When my dad found out I’d complained to Mom, he put on a wounded expression. “My little girl is all grown up. She doesn’t need her old dad anymore. Teenagers are just so sensitive. I’ll just stay away from now on.”

My dad was always so good to me. His words made me feel a pang of guilt. Mom said I was being difficult and letting my imagination run wild.

It wasn't until I posted a video online, asking for advice on how to deal with my feelings, that our happy home began to fall apart.

…

The candlelight from my fifteenth birthday cake flickered across my face as I closed my eyes to make a wish.

I hadn’t even lowered my hands when a wet, hot kiss landed on my cheek.

“My Lily is another year older!” Dad said, beaming.

I went rigid. The damp sensation sent a shiver of revulsion through me. I grabbed a napkin and scrubbed at my cheek, my face contorted in disgust. “Dad! Don’t do that! You got spit all over me!”

His smile froze. It was quickly replaced by an exaggerated pout. He clutched his chest, speaking to my mom in a joking tone. “Our daughter’s all grown up, Sarah. She’s too good for her dad now! She used to beg for kisses and hugs, and now I can’t even get a peck on the cheek? My heart is breaking!”

Mom shot me a disapproving look. “Is that any way to talk to your father? He spoils you rotten! Look, he just bought you the newest phone for your birthday, and this is how you thank him? Such an ungrateful little thing.”

I stared at the expensive phone box on the table, my throat feeling tight. “I just think… I’m older now. There should be boundaries…”

“What boundaries? You’ll always be a child in our eyes!” Mom cut me off. She leaned over and planted a loud kiss on my little brother’s chubby cheek. “See, sweetie? Isn’t your sister being silly? Mommy and Daddy love you both so much, we could just kiss you all day!”

That night, I tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. It was true, my dad had always doted on me, giving me anything I wanted. Very few kids at my school had a phone that expensive. I remembered other girls in my class complaining about their dads being clueless and not paying attention to details, but none of them seemed to have a reaction as strong as mine.

Maybe I really am just being too sensitive, I thought. The memory of my dad’s hurt expression made me feel guilty.

“Lily? Are you asleep?”

The door suddenly swung open, shattering my thoughts.

My dad stood in the doorway, his long shadow stretching across my bed.

I flinched, pulling the blanket up to my chin, my heart hammering in my chest. “Dad! You didn’t knock again!”

He acted as if he hadn’t heard me and walked straight in. “Just checking if your window is closed. The forecast said there’s a big storm tonight. The wind will be strong.”

He closed the window and turned to leave. At the door, he looked back and smiled. “Alright, alright. I know you’re a big girl now, you have your rules. I’ll knock next time.”

The door clicked shut.

The room was dark again, but my heart refused to calm down. That creeping sense of unease was back, wrapping itself around me.

The next day, after much hesitation, I went to my mom.

“Mom, I talked to Dad last night about knocking before…”

She didn’t even look up from feeding my brother applesauce. “He told me. Said you’re getting quite the attitude. Now he needs an official announcement to enter your room.”

“It’s not an announcement! It’s just knocking!” I said, my voice rising with frustration. “I’ve told him so many times, but he never knocks. It makes me feel really uncomfortable, like I have no safety.”

Her hand finally paused. She looked up at me, her brow furrowed. “What is wrong with you?”

“That is your father! He changed your diapers, he gave you baths. What part of you hasn’t he seen? And now you’re talking to me about ‘safety’ from your own dad?”