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Fatherless

Broken Children and the Absent Fathers that Break Them

By Mary-Beth ShelleyPublished 6 years ago 5 min read
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"I'm gonna go call my dad, okay?" I chirped happily, hopping down from the sticky kitchen table, picking up a cookie on my way out of the room. I was six years old and had already memorized my father's telephone number and would call him almost every day in a desperate attempt to make him love me.

"Wait!" My mothers sharp voice rang out behind me. I stopped and looked at her as she sighed deeply about the uncomfortable journey she was about to embark on.

"Honey... you can't call your dad." She started with great trepidation. "He called me this morning from jail. He was arrested last night and it's gonna be a while until he's out."

My six year old self barely understood. This was the first time I would be faced with this news.

It wouldn't be the last.

My father is an alcoholic drug addict who has been in and out of prison. My parents divorced when I was 4 years old and after that I only saw him about twice a year for a minute or so, just enough time to drop off my birthday or Christmas present and receive an awkward hug. We usually met in the parking lot of a fast food restaurant on the other side of town because my mother didn't want him to know where we lived.

My father has never once said that he's proud of me. Throughout my school years I invited him to most performances, ceremonies, or events I took part in. He came to one play when I was 16 and when I met him afterwards he and his girlfriend complained that the theater was too hot and the seats were uncomfortable. He didn't come to my graduation.

I'm sure deep down, somewhere, my father must love me. He didn't hurt me like he hurt my half-siblings, or my mother. He yelled, lied, and stole from my mother while strictly disciplining my siblings by pouring hot sauce down their throats. He never did this to me, but I saw it all.

Your father is the first man you are supposed to look up to. He is the gauge for all future men in life. How he treats you determines how you allow yourself to be treated. My father was constantly absent, volatile, and untrustworthy. He never built me up as someone worthy of love or respect.

So how could I have known that I am?

I didn't realize until I was much older how he affected me. I told myself I was fine without him and that I never needed him anyway. But my actions said otherwise. I was needy, afraid of being abandoned. I needed constant reassurance to the point of irritating my mother or friends with my repetitive questions. He had let me down; how could I trust anything else if I couldn't trust him?

I was so needy it was off-putting and I had trouble making friends. I was bullied for my looks and inability to socialize well. When I was 14 the bullying had reached a breaking point. I tried to kill myself and ended up in the hospital for a week. When I told my dad a few weeks later, he simply said, "Well that's stupid, don't do that," and we never talked about it again. My problems never went away, though. I was in and out of psychologists, mental hospitals, and on the verge of dropping out of school. I truly believed I was garbage, broken beyond repair.

By the time I was 16, I had attempted suicide twice, battled bulimia and self harm, and had delved into the world of pornography, attempting to meet up with men twice my age that I had met online. Thankfully I never did, but it came close.

I'm not sure why my father did what he did and I may never know, either. I wish I had been enough for him. I used to think if I just loved him more or was better behaved, he would stay or visit. He never did.

In some weird, twisted way, I think it would be easier to tell people he's dead. He's been gone almost my whole life, anyway.

He was gone when I needed him most. There's no turning back time and there's no making up for it.

My hope is for fathers to understand that they play such a large role in their children's development. Fathers can't simply walk away or neglect their children and expect them to turn out fine. Sometimes they do, but more often than not, it repeats the cycle.

I was lucky. I had a good support system around me and was able to graduate, get a good job and be happy. But the scars I carry from my experiences will never go away.

There are staggering statistics that show the truth:

  • 63% of youth suicides are from fatherless homes (US Dept. Of Health/Census) – 5 times the average.
  • 85% of all children who show behavior disorders come from fatherless homes – 20 times the average. (Center for Disease Control)
  • 80% of rapists with anger problems come from fatherless homes – 14 times the average. (Justice & Behavior, Vol 14, p. 403-26)
  • 71% of all high school dropouts come from fatherless homes – 9 times the average. (National Principals Association Report)

Relationships aren't perfect; they never are. But the relationship between father and child is one of the most important. If you are a father out there reading this, please think twice about what you say and do. Please visit your children—tell them you love them.

If you are a fatherless child out there reading this right now, there is hope. It won't always be easy, but I've been there and it is possible to recover. And if you remember one thing from this article I hope it is this: You are worthy of love and respect, and you can overcome this.

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About the Creator

Mary-Beth Shelley

Just a girl who loves Jesus, writing, and being overly dramatic. What's the deal with being normal anyway?

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