I do not know my biological father. I have never met him.
There used to be a stigma attached to that. I have never been one to offer up that information. Maybe I was protecting my mother. Maybe I was protecting myself. We didn’t want to be judged. Or pitied.
It was no one’s business.
The details aren’t important. Anymore. Life has a way of marching forward.
Eventually I was told the story about him.
He was a mythic creature of sorts. To me anyway. To some he was real.
Him not being around was normal. It was the only way I had ever known.
Growing up, I never had a desire to meet him. Not one. Who needs a father who doesn’t want to be needed?
He was the one missing out. Not to know his own flesh and blood.
It was his problem. Not mine. He could deal with it.
What did I care?
That served me well for a lot of years.
Then I turned forty. Forty is a profound number. It makes you think. A lot.
I found myself reflecting on life. All of the moments that had gotten me to this place. Made me this person.
When I finally let my guard down to think about it, really think about it, I realized just how affected I had been, not having him in my life.
Not even having the choice to decide IF I wanted him in my life.
I had never wanted to admit that to myself.
Every relationship that I have ever had, probably suffered in his wake.
Not having a father made me emotionally unattainable. No need to apply. Don’t waste your time and efforts.
Keeping friends at arm’s length was the only way to protect myself. I wouldn’t give anyone the power to hurt me.
Except that is an incredibly lonely, empty way to live your life.
Then I married. And had children. And they started tearing down those walls. My husband was contractually obligated to love me forever. I had the marriage certificate after all.
Surely my kids would love me unconditionally. No matter what I did to screw it up.
Even with that there was a huge hole in my life.
Through the years I have filled that hole in my soul with denial. And working. Working to be smarter, stronger and funnier. Anything to make myself more lovable.
Anything except dealing with the truth.
I had never allowed myself to feel the pain. I could not let my circumstances dictate how I should feel. I was always one step ahead.
Until recently. And then a beautiful thing happened.
I gave myself permission to feel. Permission to understand. Permission to question. Permission to blame. Permission to rise above. Except for real this time.
I deserved all of those things. I was worthy.
There was a lot of anger inside of me. Anger that had been pushed down. I internalized everything. As long as the world thought I was okay, then it must have been so.
Today I am not afraid of my truth or who knows. Maybe that is the whole reason I started this blog. To have a voice. An outlet. A release. Maybe it all led to this.
Of course it all led to this.
I do not know my biological father.
I am not that little lost girl anymore, though. I am a grown woman.
So from one adult to another:
You turned your back on me. You hurt me. Which was hard to work though since I didn’t even know you. You made me guarded and mistrusting. You made me wonder what was wrong with me. Why did your family not do something? Anything.
I was angry for how you made my mother struggle as a single parent. She worked two jobs just so we could eat during those first few years. Sometimes it felt as though I was raising myself.
You were not there for my first steps. To walk me to my first day of school. You weren’t there for father/daughter dances. My first broken heart. My first car. Graduation. You didn’t walk me down the aisle at my wedding.
You gave me no example of how a man should treat me. You made me doubt the motives of every man who was ever in my life. Yet in spite of myself, I married my husband at age 30. He has certainly paid a lot for your sins.
When asked to complete a health history, I can only tell half of the story. That gets me every time.
Because of you, I have four amazing children who have never had a grandfather. You see my husband’s father died before they were born. I know he would have loved them, if only he had been given the chance. So now they only dream of what having a grandpa must be like.
I am smart, compassionate, organized, dependable, funny and an amazing multitasker. I am a perfectionist with OCD tendencies. Maybe we share some of those qualities. But I can’t say.
I have dimples. Do you? I have often wondered.
This post has lifted the weight that I have carried all these years. No one can tell my truth. Because I already have.
I forgive you. Because to not forgive only hurts me. And my children. And it keeps me from growing and learning the things that I still have to learn.
This was my story to tell.
I am sure you have your story. Your reasons you made your choices. What you may or may not have felt all these years.
What strikes me as most odd, is that I have still compassion for you. You have missed out as well. We all make mistakes.
Maybe one day when you are poised to leave this world, you will be ready, secure with the belief that you’re leaving behind a life well lived.
That is my hope for us both.
WSafety concerns over online pharmacies selling pharmaceutical products
I have a daughter who will be turning 1 in a couple of weeks. She has a daddy in her life who is her older sister’s biological father. He loves both daughters very much and is fiercely protective of them.
We are both unsure how to speak with her and her older sisters as they grow up. We don’t know how she will react and what are the best things to do and say to support her.
When I told her biological father that I was pregnant and had no intention to terminate, his first reaction was to tell me that he wanted nothing to do with “the kid”, not financially, not emotionally, not in presence, not in any way.
Her DAD, on the other hand, never had any reaction other than wanting to love and take care of her.
From time to time I look for new photos of him and his family online to save in a folder that I don’t look at, but she may want to see someday. If she is curious someday, I want her to have access to them. (This is where you got your cleft chin and dimples. This is what HE looked like when we met. This is him enjoying the hobbies/sports you may have a common interest in.)
But how do I talk to her moving forward? How do I talk to her about someone who keeps from the world the secret that he fathered her? How do I talk to her about someone who doesn’t want to meet her? How do I talk to her about someone who isn’t there? How do I talk to her about someone who, in my mind, becomes less of a person and more of a theoretical THING every passing day?
What would be your advice?
I want to do as right by her as I can.
It is a very difficult situation I know. My mother was always honest with me. Once I was old enough to understand, she explained what happened. If it were my daughter I would tell her the truth, when she’s ready. You certainly don’t want her finding out one day that you’ve kept something hidden from her. You can’t feel guilty for him not wanting to be a part of her life. That is his burden to bear. And your daughter will choose one day what she wants to do with the information. I feel for her and for you. You love her. You will figure it all out. And I’m glad she has a great dad in her life. She’s already winning. 🙂
Tonja I never knew all of that about you. You lived every day as if nothing was wrong. I think you knew I lived with my grandmother the reason was because my mom and dad both gave up on my and my sister and left us with them. I have forgave them but they still choose not to have a part in my life. And like you I live everyday hoping when they die that they have lived a full happy life without either of their children and grand children in their life. Continue to keep on for your children. My oldest understands now that he is older why his grand parents are they way they are….Love you girl…
Way to go Tonja. This is a beautiful piece. What a great example you are of a real survivor. Having a mom who ran out on our entire family I can relate on some level. It’s always awkward when people ask questions about your family & you have to decide…do I give the truth or the glossed over version? Very courageous & a wonderful example for your kiddos!
Thank you so much Kelly. That’s why I finally wrote it because I knew there were many more like me.
What a courageous post. Forgiveness is such a wonderful gift to yourself and your family. Your life is a shining example of that – thanks for being that example. You are beautiful inside and out. Hugs to you 🙂
Aww thank you Susanne.
You speak the truth. He is the one that missed and is missing out!
Beautiful! I don’t what I could possibly add, thank you so much for sharing this part of you heart and life with us. xo
Thank you Kathy!
That was beautiful. What a weight to be lifted off of you. Your kids are so blessed to have two parents.
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What a brave and vulnerable post. I’m so glad that you’ve shared this–for me, for people in a similar situation, and for you most of all. XOXO
Thank you very much! So kind of you to read it, too!
WOW!!! enjoyed your story. Well said!
Thank you!
What a wonderful way to think of some one you do not know… You are definitely and amazing Person… Who knows, maybe you are better for not having him in your life. True, I am sure it has made you not trust men in general, but from all your blogs, your beautiful children, and your life today, YOU ARE AMAZING! Your mom and grandmother did a fantastic job with you. Just remember, like you said, “it’s his loss” , Cause you my dear are simply an amazing Lady. I too hope that writing this has helped you feel better. Sometimes, ya just have to let it all out in order to breath freely. Keep up the good work!! Can’t emphasize enough just how amazing you are.
Aww thank you Annette! You are always too good to me.
Aww thank you Annette. You are always so good to me. Thank you.
I really hope that you find peace in sharing this with all of us…….I can’t begin to imagine how you must have felt your whole life with a father – I am glad that you are finally to the point where you can stop pushing the hurt away and I hope that your verbalizing your inner most feelings will bring some healing for that hurt. Love you girl – keep on writing cause we love to read your words. Sending you a big (((((hug)))))
Love you Joy! Thank you.
That was beautiful.