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To All the Girls Who Grew up Without a Dad

You are not alone. And you are enough.

By Sophia ChajonPublished 6 years ago 4 min read
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Photo by Qasim Sadiq on Unsplash

Three little girls run around in the basement—which their mother has deemed their personal play space—laughing and shrieking in delight. On the floor is a man wrapped up in a sleeping bag, rolling around pretending to be a giant caterpillar intent on catching his prey; AKA my sisters and I. We jump on the backs of the sofas, something my mother never allowed us to do, to escape his playful clutches.

When my mother finally calls us up for bed, all three of us are sweaty, red-faced, and grinning. She shakes her head since this isn't the first time she's told him not to get us wound up before bedtime, but she's smiling too.

We're a picture perfect family with a caring mother and a father who loves to play with his little girls. Except we're not. The man playing with us wasn't my father. It was my uncle.

None of the memories I have of playing as a little girl involve my dad. He was always working, always busy with something else. He was much too businesslike to ever roll around on the floor with his kids.

So I grew up without my dad, my supportive mother practically raising my sisters and I on her own. And for the longest time, that was enough. It was enough for me to know that at least I had a dad, and at least my family was together. Sometimes anyway.

But then that was taken away from me too.

I had always known my parents didn't have the best marriage. I knew they fought, things were tense, and I had even come to accept that they didn't really seem to be in love anymore.

So why I was so surprised when they told us they were separating, I don't know. But I was. I felt blindsided. Everything I had ever known fell apart that day, and within minutes, my dad had packed his things and was gone. Off to live with some friends, to live with another family that wasn't us.

During that time, my mom tried. I know she did. She tried to make things better with my dad, to give their marriage one more chance. I tried, too. I talked to my dad, begging him to change, to spend more time with us, to fight for his family, to love us. To love me. But it was never enough. My dad had given up.

It wasn't until a little while later that I learned the real reason behind the separation. My dad had cheated on my mom before I was even born. My mom was pregnant with me at the time, and he knew that.

For some reason, this information—although very eye-opening about so many of the events of my childhood—hurt me even more. It wasn't me he cheated on. My mom was the one who had a right to feel hurt. So why did this news crush me so much?

And then it hit me. My dad rejected me before I was even born. Before I ever had a chance to prove myself to him, to earn his love and acceptance, he decided that I wasn't good enough for him. That I never would be. That none of us would be. And so he chose another woman instead, and then hid his secret for 18 years, letting his guilt and shame drive him away from my mother, my sisters, and me.

For so long, I wondered why I wasn't good enough. I tortured myself over all the things I should've done differently to please him and pressured myself to always be the best. All I wanted was to get my dad's attention, have him be proud of me, have him want to spend time with me and choose me over his work, have him actually get to know his oldest daughter.

And now, finally, I am just beginning to learn that it isn't my fault. There was nothing I could have done to make my dad love me. There was nothing I could have done to change what he did. And that's okay. Because the truth is that my dad's opinion of me doesn't define me. His rejection doesn't change who I am or make me any less valuable. There is nothing wrong with me just because he never chose me and I am good enough despite how he made me feel.

If this is you, if your father rejected you before any boy ever could, if he broke your heart and made you feel unworthy of love, then this is for you. Because no matter what the circumstances are for you, it isn't your fault. You are more than enough. You deserve to be loved and cherished and treasured and anybody who can't see that, including your dad, simply doesn't deserve you.

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About the Creator

Sophia Chajon

Reader, writer, poet, photographer, and dog-lover.

I believe words and chocolate are two of the best things in life.

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