Dear Dad

Writing has been therapeutic for me, but I hardly every share it. Today I am sharing a letter I wrote to my Dad a couple months ago. This letter is still relevant because at current state all that I have written is still true. Sometimes getting it out on paper is the healing action we need to move on. Please read and share any feeback.

Dear Dad,

I don’t know if Dad is really the right word to use, but you have always requested I call you that, so there you go. You called me last week. I want you to know, your voicemail stills sits untouched. I haven’t even looked at the transcript. I can’t do it.

Sometimes we lock our emotions away to thrive, to survive. This is what I have done to deal with you. Do I ever wonder if you are safe? Every single day. For now, knowing your status is all I can handle, and knowing you are okay is enough. I guess if I’m being honest here, “okay” isn’t actually the right word for your current status. No, what I actually know is you are alive. For now, anyway.

People tell me I just need to forgive you and things will be different. But Dad, I did forgive you and things have stayed the same. You broke me as an adult, the same as you broke me as a child. I tried, I let you in but that is never enough for you, instead you need to crush me. Why does that make you feel some sort of way?

I am writing this letter, that someday you might see it. Maybe then, once you understand my side, you can tell me how I can be fixed. How do I heal from broken promises? How do I heal from abandonment? How do I heal from loss of trust? How do I know people won’t fail me? You, Dad, were supposed to love me and you didn’t. I’m sorry about that, but I am not like you, except for maybe when it comes to you. I know what it means to be a parent and I would NEVER want to be away from people I love or make them feel like I did. It seemed so easy to for you to leave and just forget me. I don’t get you, but….

Dad, I forgive you, AND I also need you to let me go. It’s the only way I’ll break our vicious circle. Forgiving for me, means letting go, forgetting your small piece of my existence. Letting you go means I can thrive. Free from the pain and loss. Dad, the loss that you have caused has stunted my life and limited my ability to be a full person. You may be alive, but I have already grieved you, so please stop coming back, stop giving me hope. Hope that always ends in loss, feels like death over and over again and I want to live.

Dad, this is why your voice mail lives on my phone, un-listened to. One day I will give myself permission to remove it. I know you won’t give me that release, but one day I am going to take my life back and live. This is just my first step. I hope that you can understand my position, it should be easy for you to understand since I am essentially doing what you have always done. Maybe you don’t deserve this, but I didn’t deserve you. I know that is harsh but it’s the truth.

All my love Dad. I still do love you, but I just can’t have you,

~Your Daughter