Father or man?

While chatting with a dear friend on Whatsapp I was thinking about my way to relate to men. I expressively thought about men and not women, even if I am occasionally attracted by women too, because men have the peculiar way to attract me as fathers more than as men. 

I never had a father, even if I do have a biological father. My father is a 91-year-old cantankerous fossil, who has always played the role of a grandfather, nevertheless lacking wisdom and the pride of a head of a family. My mother is the one who wears the trousers. Almost every time – better: every time, with the only exception of Domenic, who was my age – I have fallen in love with older men. 

And now… I discussed with my friend my strange relationship to Doctor Livio. I was convinced to have a crush on him, a serious crush, then, thinking over the issue, I came to the conclusion that it was a sort of teenage crush: the young girl who fancies an older guy. I never had something similar at the age on which I should have had it, so that ok, let’s take it as it comes. Then, I thought it was the love of a daughter for her father. Since I never experienced this kind of feeling, it was unknown to me and I had no way to compare it with something I felt in the past. Not that I do not love my biological father, I simply do not love him as a father. I am his daddy-sitter, his nurse, his caregiver, but definitely not his daughter. The more I think about Doctor Livio, the more I feel as if he were the perfect dad: a man in his 60’s, intelligent, caring, sensitive. Even if I pay him enough for his services, as my friend pointed out, I owe him much. He gave me back my dignity and my life. I used to pay my erstwhile therapists too, but they just messed me up. And now, I find myself thinking about the following question: do I love Doctor Livio as a man as well, or do I love him just as a father? 

I cannot deny my feelings for that gorgeous man. I avoid mentioning all this during therapy, because I fear that it could become an obstacle to therapy itself. Moreover, I am still not totally sure about how I really feel. I observe Doctor Livio, the first person I have met since I turned ill who considers me a special person, who encourages me to go back to study, who sticks up for me, who makes me believe in my own resources. Before him, everything was just negative. The therapist I had before him had foreseen that I would never pass an exam which I took at University before leaving Basel, and as I told him I passed it, he did not even congratulate me. Nice encouragement, hm? Doctor Livio always says to me that I am unique. He repeats me over and over again that he believes in my inner strength. He is the one who gives me an insight in my dysfunctional family, and shows me that I saved a huge healthy part within my mind. 

I love Doctor Livio. That’s it.