Dad is not a title you deserve. It's not one you've earned, but because you are my "biological father", it's the name you get given.
I have only vague memories of you - not particularly happy, or unhappy. I don't really remember what you look like, what you sounded like, whether you used to cuddle me or kiss me goodnight. Truth is, you left when I was a baby. Losing interest in me and my brother, as well as my Mom.
We saw you for a short time, visited you weekly - well I say visited, but most of the time we just waited for you to finish your Friday night pint (or four) in the local pub.
And then it was over. We no longer saw you, Mom had moved on with my Dad (yes that's right, my Dad, the man who took on the job you left behind and raised us as his own) and we were much happier away from you. Not that I think you cared, you didn't fight for us.
It was years later I found out that you lived round the corner from my Nan and Grandad for a long period of time. Weekly, you would walk past my grandparents house... if you saw them, you would say hello, how are you, how are my children... wait no, you NEVER asked that last question. Why? How could you suddenly switch off from being our father? I could never understand that and to be honest I don't think I ever will.
I always imagined what I would say to you if I saw you - would I cry? Would I shout? Would I scream? I always wanted to show you that despite everything you did, or the fact that you did nothing at all, I still turned out OK. No thanks to you.
You might be able to tell from my tone, what you did to us left me bitter. I don't find myself dwelling on your actions anymore, but it used to occupy my thoughts constantly. As an early teen, despite having a father raising me, I always wondered why you weren't around. After all, if my own "real" father didn't - couldn't - love me enough to stick around or want to be part of my life, then who would?
I HATE you for this. My teens were heartbreaking because of you. I figured you must have thought that I, a tiny baby at the time, was so awful that you had to leave.... it made me hate myself. My self confidence has never really recovered from this. I still struggle now with self love, confidence and acceptance. That's your fault and really, all the hate I feel for myself, should be redirected to you.
I don't know exactly how old you are, I do know from Facebook that time hasn't been kind to you (I believe they call that karma) and I also know that your latest partner has kids who you don't seem to mind spending time with. And grandchildren... Lots of love from Grandad Bob? Who are you? Do they even know about us? Do they even know what you're really capable of?
I really want to hate you. But hating you means spending far too much energy on you and you shouldn't have that power over me. Not 33 years later.
Writing this letter isn't so you can read it, it isn't so you can feel bad (which is doubtful), it isn't so you get in touch, it's for me. For me to let go of the pain you've caused me and to show anyone else going through something like this that they are, unfortunately, not the only one.
From The Daughter You'll Never Know