Fatherless on Father's Day
Holidays, especially today, the day dedicated to celebrating fathers used to be overwhelmingly triggering.
My biological father and I haven’t talked in about seven years. And throughout the course of our separation, Father’s Day used to be one of the toughest days of the year for me.
I’d see my news feed flooded with appreciation posts, stores decked out with cards, ads for the perfect Father’s Day gift. Everywhere I turned, I was served with a not-so-lovely reminder of his absence—and another year of silence that sat between us.
Memories of what once was and painful feelings of what is buried me. I’d be encumbered by the suffocation of abandonment.
Will he call today? Or leave me hanging?
And every year, the story of “he forgot me” lived on.
Today, is different. Today, I can breathe. It’s not because he called, or because I called him. The silence still exists. It’s just that seven years gave me enough time to rewrite the story and now I have a new one to share.⠀
So today, my story begins with gratitude. A thank you, to you dad.
You showed me that although someone can have the power to break you apart, you also have the power to piece yourself back together. You taught me to stop disempowering myself by putting the power in your hands to fix it, to make it right. I can do it.
You reminded me that I don’t actually need anyone’s love, appreciation, approval, or encouragement to feel whole—all I need is my own. I can rely on myself to provide. I’m resourceful, abundant, enough. That even when the ones I love leave me, I will always have me.
Dad, I’d like to remind you of a few things: I’m stubborn, I got it from you, and I really like that about myself. You did your best and your best made me want to become my best. I’m rebellious, the rebellion began with you, and I can’t thank you enough because it’s my rebellious nature that makes me proud. Last but not least and most importantly, I love you.⠀
Happy Father’s Day to you and Happy Father’s Day to me because I’ve learned to be my own daddy.