Fourteen

Sophie was fourteen when her father died, and twenty-four when she finally admitted that loving him had never been simple.

Cancer took him in pieces. By the time he was gone, Sophie had already learned how to brace herself- how to live a house where affection and fear shared the same walls. Her father could be warm and funny one moment, sharp and cutting the next. His words sometimes lingered longer then bruises would have. He loved her, she knew that. But his love came tangled with control, anger, and silence.

When he got sick, everything blurred. The yelling stopped. The edges softened. People spoke about him like he was already a saint. Sophie felt confused by the relief she wasn’t supposed to feel and ashamed of the anger that refused to disappear. When he died no one asked her how complicated it was. They only asked her to miss him.

So she did. Loudly. Quietly. Wrongly.

She didn’t know how to feel anymore. She only knew that after he was gone, her emotions stopped behaving. Grief didn’t come in waves-it came as explosions. She loved people too intensely and panicked when they disappointed her. She felt abandoned by small things. A canceled plan could send her spiraling back to fourteen, standing in the hallway pretending she was fine.

Some days, she missed her father so much it felt like her chest was tearing open.

Other days, She remembered how his voice could harden, the way she learned how to read the room before speaking, and the grief turned into rage. That anger scared her. Made her feel ungrateful. It made her feel cruel.

“How could I miss someone who hurt me” she wondered.

At twenty-four, Sophie still carried him inside her-not just the loss, but the damage. His unpredictability had taught her nervous system to stay on high alert. His love had taught her that affection could disappear without warning. His death had frozen all of it in place.

After years of battling her emotions, she finally got the diagnosis. BPD, she knows it didn’t come from nowhere. It stemmed from early lessons and amplified them. Fear of abandonment. Intense emotions. Black-and-white thinking. The constant feeling that she was either too much or not enough all at once.

She never learned how to cope because no one taught her how to hold two truths at once.

That she could grief him,

and resent him.

That she could love him,

And feel safer now that he was gone.

That relief didn’t mean she wished him dead. Sometimes she talked to him in her head, but the conversations never went gentle.

“You hurt me” she would think.

“I needed you”

“I still miss you”

The words collided, contradicting each other, leaving her emotionally exhausted. She didn’t know where to put the grief when it wasn’t pure. She didn’t know how to mourn someone who had been both her protector and a source of pain.

For years, she punished herself for that confusion.

At twenty-four, sitting alone in her room after another emotional spiral that felt too big for the situation, Sophie finally understood something she’d been missing.

She wasn’t broken for struggling.

She was grieving a father and healing from him at the same time.

That kind of loss doesn’t come with instructions. That night, Sophie let herself cry-not just for the man who died, but for the girl who never felt fully safe loving him. She cried for the fear she carried into adulthood, for the anger she was never allowed to express, For the child who learned early that love could hurt and still be necessary.

“I didn’t know how to survive you” she whispered into the quiet. “And I didn’t know how to lose you either”.

Her emotions didn’t suddenly make sense.

Her bpd didn’t disappear.

The past didn’t soften.

But for the first time, Sophie stopped demanding that her grief be clean, or logical, or forgivable.

It was messy because her love had been messy. And accepting that-slowly, imperfectly-was the beginning of learning how to cope.

Reviews

[Brad Dehler]

Wow this is a powerful story. It seems so visceral and my heart goes out to Sophie. I also hope that this is not autobiographical. I really like how you explained the transformation of Sophie's understanding of her relationship with her father, dealing with the tragedy of losing a father while needing reconciliation of the living pain.

[Stephie.Santi]

I really appreciate your review! & Yes this piece will always be the most personal one. It is internal thoughts and emotions that never made sense now being explained. I appreciate that you mentioned the transformation of understanding. That was something I wanted to make sure was clear and left nothing to the void. Thank you for your review!!

[Brad Dehler]

Interesting. yes, just now explained. Funny how good writing can do that. You are most welcome for the review :)

[lizzie]

Hi! Your storytelling has a beautiful flow emotions land effortlessly, and the pacing feels very cinematic. While reading, I kept envisioning certain scenes as comic panels.
I work professionally as a comic/webtoon artist. If visual storytelling ever interests you, I’d be happy to connect.
Instagram: lizziedoesitall