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Open Letter

To the Father Who Was Never a Father

By Stella LanePublished 7 years ago 4 min read
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I want to start by saying thank you. Thank you for taking the time between parties to meet my mother. Your relationship was not one that any child could idolize, but through it I was conceived, so thank you.

That is where my thankfulness ends.

See, I know you can't relate to growing up wondering why you were never good enough, or not understanding why your daddy didn't want to see you, but let me paint you a picture of a childhood without a father.

Think back to five years old at Christmas time with everyone gathered around a tree giving you presents. Your parents weren't together, but they worked together to show you that you were loved. But see, my Christmas was traveling 900 miles to a big, grey building in a state that wasn't home. My Christmas was having a strange man scan my entire body with a baton before I could go into a glass room just to say hi to my daddy, and cling to the hug that I wouldn't get again for another year.

But even then, you were thinking of yourself. Taking my gum from a vending machine in a prison visitation room and giving it to the other kids in the waiting room so that their missing daddies would have your back. Five-year-old me didn't understand why the other kids were more important, but I understood what the man next to you meant when he said he was in for murder.

Do you know what it's like to be 10 years old and have your dad break your heart because he's finally around, but won't share a bite of his dinner with you? Ten years of missed dinners and that steak was just too damn tasty for me to have a bite. I understand now though, I wouldn't share my food with you either.

Can you imagine being 11 years old getting ready for bed? Now imagine seven sheriff's cars, a SWAT van, and police dogs knocking on the door looking for your daddy. And hell, you're 11, so you just want to protect him, and you don't know what "warrant" means, so you call him to warn him that the police are coming to get him and at 11 years old your dad says "thanks for the heads up, kid." I still have my teddy bear that the sheriff gave to me. Can't say you never got me anything.

Imagine that you're 13 and you have to have back surgery. That's scary for an adult, but imagine being a child. And while in recovery, your dad asks if he can have one of your pain pills. You know, the ones you have because you just had major surgery? "Yeah dad, you can have some." Maybe you had back pain too.

Imagine being 18 and finding out you're going to have a baby and getting married, but your dad won't be there to see it. Baby number two comes along but daddy isn't there for that either.

Imagine at 20 you find out he's finally out of prison for the fifth (Sixth? Seventh? Eighth?) time, and being SO EXCITED because maybe, just maybe, this is the time that things will be different. After all, he has grandkids now. Maybe he'll care for them like he never did about you.

But nothing will ever be enough. See, you've always been the "choose your family" type. You were too busy taking care of other people's kids that you chose not to be bothered with taking care of your own. Hell, here I am at 21 wondering when the next time you'll ask how we're doing is, but don't worry, I'm not holding my breath.

And please, don't overwhelm yourself with grief and concern for your lost child. For the one who begged God for their daddy for 20 years, to no avail. Because they've realized that they were lucky.

See, I was so fucking loved it's unreal. My mother is an angel. That woman went through hell for me. My step dad is a hell of a man. We didn't always see eye to eye, but he cared about me. My grandmother loved me and made sure I never wanted for anything. And my grandpa? Bless that man's soul. I can't count the number of times he held me while I cried over a father who was never a father.

I just want you to know that you destroyed me for any love to come. When I found my first love, the heartbreak of losing it was nothing because I've known your heartbreak since I could talk. I never trusted anyone because I believed everyone would leave. You always did.

But I also want you to know, dear father, who isn't really a father, that I don't cry for you anymore. It took 21 years of life for me to see it, but you aren't worth those tears. I can't say I'm not angry because there are days when I think of you and fury overwhelms me. But I don't ask why anymore. I don't care why anymore. Because I was fucking loved.

I just wanted you to know.

Sincerely,

The Child Who Was Never Really Your Child

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About the Creator

Stella Lane

I am a 21 year old writer and activist. I cover a large variety of topics anywhere from personal to political.

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