Some fathers were kind to their daughters, but my father was not was one of them. That we spent more time together, maybe we would find a common language, but he was always too busy and ambitious. My father left my upbringing entirely to my mother is control and no matter how hard I tried, I would never do anything was good enough.
The more she tried to make me the ideal daughter, the more I did she resisted more. She considered me unfeminine starting from my clothes, the gun, over the cowboy and Indian kit, Ranger hat Joe gave me. All of that would eventually disappear or she would share it with others.
- You do not need that. It is not for girls - she said when I would rebelled.
My aunts were deeply sympathetic to her because they knew they would not able to change, but in a way I kne
