I thought I’d try that title.
Dad.
Not “My father”
Dad.
Because that’s what I have in my life. My dad.
You have no idea how hard it is to type the word. To say the word in my head. It’s like every time I do I get a little stab in my heart.
Dad.
“With love, Dad”
That’s how he signs his emails to me.
They are written with fondness and with respect.
Our email exchange has been open and honest. On both sides.
“I love you. You are my daughter. Love and affection, Dad”
It hurts. It hurts way more than it should.
I have not had a dad since I was 9. I have had a stepfather. I have had a person who used to be my dad who wouldn’t talk to me any more.
A person who used to be my dad who didn’t want any contact with me.
A person who appeared to go to great lengths to hide my existence from my half-sister
A person who didn’t want me.
And now I have a dad.
A person who tells me he was in a very difficult situation. One I can understand completely.
A person who believes he made decisions that were in my best interest.
A person who has shared facts that include being given custody of 2 kids in the 70’s. A father being given custody. An unusual thing even in this day and age.
A person who has shown me a different perspective on my childhood that I can’t ignore. A perspective that no matter how I feel about him, fundamentally changes the way I see myself.
“With love, Dad.”
It might be true.
He might love me.
And that…that really hurts. So much so that the emotional pain becomes almost physical. Almost unbearable.
“I must say, I can not help but to be proud of you Dawn”
A new level of pain that has now reached almost unbearable.
What if it’s true?
What if I have a dad. Not a father. A dad.
Because that little girl inside of me that is so scared of the world wants her dad.
What I realise I want more than anything is to have a dad that will take me in his arms and tell me that everything is ok.
Tell me that he loves me and will look after me.
The past is behind us. It can’t be changed. There are no second chances and you can’t make amends for what has already gone.
What you can do is form a new relationship.
A relationship based on who you are now.
That’s what I’m trying to do. Build a new relationship with my dad recognising that neither of us are who we used to be.
I can barely stand to say dad. It hurts to hear he loves me. I can’t look at a photo of him without turning away in pain.
Will this change? He is trying. And so am I. I wish I knew why it hurts me so much.
Trevor is helping with perspective via email. Hopefully I will get a chance to go and see him and get rid of this pain so that I can accept my father as my dad.
Maybe, one day I too will sign my emails
“With love, Dawn”