Dad v. Father

I am getting married in 3 months. I have struggled for a year with this decision... whether my biological father should be included or not. I understand the need for a daughter to have her father with her on that day, but I have a father. The man who raised me and cared for me and still calls me just to check up and tell me he misses me. That man is not my biological father, but I am so lucky to call him my Dad.

My parents divorced when I was very young. My biological father has had a drinking problem for as long as I can remember. My mom would wake us up at 2am to pick him up from the local bar because he drank just a little too much and got into another fight. It doesn’t take long for alcoholism to rip apart a relationship.

He remarried in 2001. His drinking did not slow down. The Summer before I began 5th grade, I called my mom to ask if I could come live with her. My father had been out celebrating my Aunts birthday. Luckily, the bar was within walking distance. I was in the shower when he came home. I heard the door slam downstairs and he starting yelling about all of the lights that were on in the house. I turned the water off, put my dirty clothes back on and turned the light off. I tucked myself into the corner of the bathroom, hoping he couldn’t hear my heavy breathing if he came upstairs.

My new step-mother and my sister followed him upstairs as he yelled and stumbled and made himself more angry. I peaked around the corner and he saw me instantly. When he told me to come out, I did, fearing the consequences if he had to come get me. As soon as I was within arms reach, I was off of my feet and on my bed. He had grabbed me by the hair and thrown me onto my bed. He got on top of me and pinned my arms. I will never forget the look on his face. He spit as he spoke. He showed his teeth like a vicious dog. His eyes were red and I’ve never seen anyone look so evil. All I could manage to say was “Daddy, don’t.” And just as I thought I had made a huge mistake, my Aunt and Uncle walked through the front door. I still don’t know why they showed up. Did someone call them? Did they just know he had too much to drink?

I barely remember his weight lifting off of me. He was standing at the top of the stairs like a lion ready to pounce. I don’t recall anything my Aunt said to him. I just remember that I was silent. He ran down the stairs after her... that’s the last thing I remember about that night.

We stayed with them for a few nights. When my step-mom decided it was safe to go back, we did. I remember being in the back seat of our Ford Explorer. He had gotten glass in his eye from the picture frames he threw at the wall. (We kept that picture frame. The corner was jagged and sharp, but It was still displayed. I will never understand why.) His right eye was yellow and I could not stop staring at him. When he noticed, he asked me what was wrong. I could have given him a list of the things that were wrong. But I was so young and he scared me to death.

Within a week, I was moving to New York. I went back to Pennsylvania for certain holidays (as agreed upon by our parents during their divorce) and in 2003, my biological father and my step-mom had a baby girl. Again, the drinking did not stop. They divorced quickly.

I stayed in NY for 13 years. My biological father came to visit me for my “Sweet 16” with his girlfriend at the time. She was young and quiet. This was the first and last time I saw her. He came to NY again when I graduated in 2010. He brought his new girlfriend. A few years later they were married.

My Mom and Dad had moved to North Carolina and I was living with my boyfriend at the time. In 2015, after a failed relationship and no family to lean on in NY, I made the decision to move back to PA. I spoke with my older sister and my biological father. He offered to let me stay with him, his new wife and my little sister. After his third marriage, he was awarded full custody of her. The first few months were great. I was happy to be there with my family. I noticed how jealous his new wife was, though. Anytime my little sister or I was around, she would sit on his lap or ask him to come to another room. I shrugged it off. He seemed like he was doing alright. My older sister swore that his drinking had been controlled and he was happy.

Not long after I moved back, a friend of the new wife and my biological father moved in with us. She was 19 and not close with her family. I was told that the new wife invited her to stay. But it quickly turned sour. The new wife got jealous of her friend and turned on her within a month. I was coming home from my now fiancées house when I got a text saying that he and the new wife were having a huge argument. When I pulled in the driveway, she was packing her things into the trunk of her car. I didn’t say a word, just walked up the driveway hoping to avoid the conflict and check on my little sister when she appeared from out of the basement and started blaming me for their failed relationship. I tried not to engage, but she kept telling me that it was my fault that this was happening. When I finally walked past her and began making my way up the steps, she threatened to shoot me. I learned later that night that she had gone to my little sisters room with a knife. My biological father promised “my girls are my only priority.” He claimed he would not go back to her because she had hurt us.

She got in my families heads. My own grandmother told me this situation was my fault and began throwing things at me from around the house. My biological father began drinking non-stop. He would come home with a case of beer every night. He broke light fixtures and wine glasses, put new holes in the drywall. Shortly after, they were back together. I felt lied to. I felt betrayed.

My older sister was always sticking up for him. I never understood why until we finally talked about it. This is the man that raised her. We had two completely different childhoods. This man was her dad. But he was not mine. Mine was in NC. He had driven to Buffalo to get me and my things and my dog and get me back to PA because he knew that’s what I wanted and he knew I needed support. This man was my dad.

In May of 2017, my boyfriend and I bought our first house. My biological father did not help me move, he did not ask where we were moving, he has never been to our house. When we got engaged a few short months later, I tried to tell him, thinking he would be excited. He didn’t answer my phone calls. I sent him a picture and said “we’re engaged!”, he texted back “congrats”. I realized at that moment that this man I had been trying to understand since I was little, was not interested in being my father. He has forgotten birthdays and missed milestones. He has given up time with me and my sisters for his estranged wife. He has chosen alcohol over almost everything in his life. This man cannot be my father.

My father is kind and light-hearted. He feels guilt when he thinks he’s upset me. He feels hurt when he cannot help me. He smiles when we talk. He tells me he misses me. He calls me just to check in. He helps me plan my wedding day.

I am thankful to have a dad. Although my sister and I have the same biological father, we have two different dads. And I’m finally coming to terms with that. I’m finally realizing that I cannot fix my biological father and that’s okay. It is not my responsibility.

You are allowed to let people slip out of your life if they are harmful to you. You do not have to hang on to them. Your only obligation is to yourself, your mental and physical health.