I forgive you.
When you walked out of my life, I didn’t think I noticed. You were a voice on the other end of the phone that touched in every once in a while on holidays.
I was confused when you would show up and start crying. It was like you cared, but I didn’t ever see you. I didn’t have any sort of bond with or to you, so I couldn’t comprehend why you seemed emotionally attached but physically distant.
The phone calls became less frequent and you moved farther and farther away. But I didn’t know any different. For so long, I convinced myself it was just part of growing up. It always seemed a small dream, when I’d get to visit. At first it was normal, but as I got older and you knew me and my life and character less, I felt more like a stranger, an alien.
I didn’t know how to love you well. It felt like the love I had for you was like the love I had for my movie crushes – surface level. Even still, I don’t know you deeply. It isn’t your fault, I didn’t try. I didn’t know I needed to – there was a weird balance ; when you’re growing up, bonding with your family seems effortless, natural – organic. You don’t have to try as much because you’re living it. But you weren’t there.
When I realized you not being there wasn’t normal, I grew bitter, resentful. I blamed you for my struggles, whether physical, mental or emotional. You being gone had stolen something from me ; love. A male role model. A father. Normalcy. As I wrestled, strapped in bed with breathing, NG and chest tubes, as well as countless IVs, listening to the card you sent me when I was 14 and had back surgery, something broke within me.
Anger spilled out, a mask for the extreme rejection and abandonment I felt because of your absence and broken promises. Even more, because you impacted me so much and you hadn’t been there – and in that, you had so much power over me. It wasn’t fair.
Because of this, I struggled with fear and control for the majority of my life – seeking affirmation in men and by manipulation, pushing those who truly loved me away because I believed they would leave me, just like you had. I took it personally ; blinded to what had happened between you and my mom. I heard whispers and stories, but it didn’t matter to me, because in the end, you were smaller than the problem – you shrank back and sacrificed your relationship with me.
The hardest part was not realizing you were the root of so many struggles I faced. When I met Jesus, He changed my life. Yet, trusting God as a good father, a perfect dad, was nearly impossible. I didn’t know what it was like, only saw it from a distance or in spurts through social media with Josie, Zeke and Oliver. I felt cheated. Unworthy. Flawed. But there was God, telling me I was beautiful, unique, worthy and cherished – and He claimed me – proudly.
I was wrecked.
Do you remember when we had dinner when I was working in Madison for a few days ? I argued with God about messaging you. Why ?! I screamed. I had been content, why taint it ? I was so nervous, I had two beers and externally processed what I was getting into with two track coaches at my clinic before you came.
And suddenly we were eating. I was laughing. But internally I was flustered – I wanted you to know me, see me, LOVE me. Wanted you to be impressed by my character and success. I was still fighting for your attention.
When we parted ways, I was disappointed. I don’t know what I expected. I was honestly so frustrated to see small mannerisms we shared, knowing they existed because I truly am your daughter. As if before that point, I secretly wished it had been a fluke and my dad was really someone else who was fighting to find me.
But I am part of you and you are part of me.
I’m sorry I took the opportunity away from you to know me in that way. I’m sorry for never giving you the benefit of the doubt and for projecting unrealistic expectations onto you as a man and as a father. I ask for your forgiveness for resenting you and denying you and not cherishing you for who you are in Christ’s eyes.
And I forgive you. For not being there and for not showing me how a man ought to love a woman; I forgive you for leaving me and making me feel unworthy and unloved.
My prayer is that you may know the love of Abba Father – unending, never ceasing, never changing – perfect. And as I declare his, I release you from any pre-existing expectations – and I return to you your proper name – Dad. I’ve kept it from you for so long. Dad was too familiar, too intimate.
But you are part of me and I am part of you. And nothing can change that – not now and not ever.
