Get to Know Nathan Daniels discussion

VERBAL ABUSE


In the midst of a childish argument with a friend he might appear, smoking and drinking, demanding I handle my problems with my fists, again… like a man. He would yell and call me names like pansy or mama’s boy. He’d look down at me across the dented red and white beer can he pressed to his lips, punctuating his disgust.

Situations like that always ended in me bursting into tears in front of my friends —friends whose dads played Atari with them at night, and catch with them in the afternoon. Friends, who would no longer be allowed to play with me anymore, after they ran home with tears of their own and another story about Nathan Daniels’ psychotic father.

When I took interest in bodybuilding, martial arts, and wrestling, I decorated my walls with posters of Hulk Hogan and Bruce Lee. My father tore them down and called me a homo and a fag. His words bludgeoned me, as if he were throwing rocks at me instead of insults. I was the daughter he never wanted, he said.

From my article for, "The Good Men Project."
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