This is a letter I have been wanting to write for awhile. And maybe after writing it and posting it on here I will get the courage to actually write it and give to you.
I am going to start this by saying; how dare you think that this whole thing is because I finally know the truth. That you aren’t my biological father. How dare you think that I am that shallow that the fact you are not biologically related to you means I feel the hurt I do. Because that has nothing to do with the way I feel towards you anymore.
You want to know what is?
Your behavior. I just went to type my entire life. But, I will allow you that fairness. Lets say since I was 18 months old. When I was so sick in hospital I died four times. That I was so close to slipping into an irreversible coma. (The biggest thing that saved my life? My mother. Shouting at doctors that she knew there was something wrong, that they had to listen and look at me). And those months when I was hospital, and mum was practically living there too, where were you? You cheated on my mother. You left us both. When we needed you the most you left us both. And I want to know why. I will never ask you because I will never be able to trust that anything you say to me is the truth, But I want to know; was your thinking ever “not my child, not my problem?”
Once I was better mum moved us to another state. She never tried to stop you from seeing me; she told me that and I believe her. And yet you never made any attempts whatsoever to be in my life. And then mysteriously when we move back into the state all of a sudden you want to be father of the year? Wtf is that shit? Another question I want the answer to, that again I will never ask for fear of being lied to, did you just do it to look like a good father? So that people in your life who knew I existed, but not the truth, would think that you were a “good dad”?
Because I feel like if it was love, then you wouldn’t have treated me the way you have? Surely? Never showing up to spend time with me when you said you would when I was a kid. Letting me down time and again.
And then introducing the girlfriends, then one wife, as I grew older. Not that there were lots of girlfriends – only two, one of which you are married to now.. But. They always came first right? It was never what I wanted or needed, it was what they wanted or needed. The first girlfriend, the only time you “stood up for me” or was “on my side” was when we were going camping, and I left my pillow inside by accident. We had to go back, thankfully only like 2mins after we left, and in my haste to get it I ran inside, tripped, and had to get stitches in my leg. I was 10. The gf and her kids were complaining about the camping trip getting cancelled, but you said no that I couldn’t go so it would get post-poned until I was fully healed. Not when she hit me. Not when she starved me. Not when she verbally abused me or excluded me. But when I needed stitches because I fell over.
And the wife. We’ll just stick to the worst. As prior to that she was wonderful to me. She kicked me out of home when I was 15. Because she had been told a lie about me. And rather than asking me she assumed it was the truth. We went through a week of being screamed at or being ignored, before it was a mutual kick-out/I had my bags packed to leave.. She forbid me from having any form of contact with my step sisters for like 8 months. Over christmas. Over birthdays. And did you stick up for me? Of course you didn’t. Even though you knew what was said wasn’t true, that what was happening wasn’t right. You did nothing.
And not that I am that shallow type the materialistic side of this matters; but I dont remember the last birthday or christmas present you gave me was that cost more than say $20. In her naivety my youngest step sister, that is 10yrs younger than me, told me one christmas you stopped at a petrol station to get cash out at an ATM because you had forgotten to buy me a present..
That was obviously before I actually stopped getting invited to christmas and family lunches/dinners. After everything I think thats what hurts the most; the fact that I was never thought of. That I was forgotten about. That I was so far off your radar that you could hold a family gathering and I wasn’t even a blip.
And the cincher? The icing on the cake for both my intolerance of the way you treated me, and the tip over for mum to finally tell me the truth about my own existence? You, coming into mine and my girlfriends home, asking ignorant and homophobic questions about our life and relationship. Asking which of us was the “guy” in the relationship. Which of us “wore the pants”. Or “made all the decisions”. The fact that you couldn’t understand that we are in a relationship, that we are in love, that we are partners – which seems to say a lot to me; that you dont understand what it means to be partners, to be equals.
And what do you even know about my life? The amount of times I have had to tell you where I work. What I am studying. Foods I dont eat. The list goes on. I bet you don’t even know what my favourite colour is?
But yes. Please. Continue to think and say that I have pulled away from you because I am shallow. Because I am the one at fault. That you are the victim.