Dear Dad,
I’d like to take back the Father’s Day gift you received in 1968.
I was born on Father’s Day September 1st 1968. It appeared I was your Father’s Day present. I wasn’t. You did not deserve me. You did not deserve any of us. You were not a good man. You were not a good father. It was deeply unfair you were given so much and we had so much taken away.
You died a few years ago. I don’t know what year nor do I know the date. I was working when I received the text from my sister ‘The cunt’s dead’. I simply glanced at it and continued to address the writing masterclass I was running. I felt happy, relieved, liberated, at peace.
You were a horrible man. A messer. A narcissist. I am glad you’re dead. I never let you meet my kids because you were not worthy of them. I didn’t go to you funeral. Every Father’s Day without you is a celebration for me.
I liberated myself from you and the myth of the father I should have had decades ago.
Father’s day is hard and complicated for many people. And on that day those people are in my thoughts.
Everyday I pay tribute to the amazing parents I see around me. Parents who are doing their very best despite being poorly parented or having challenging children.
I cheer for the children who are doing incredible things and living amazing lives despite being poorly parented by horrible people.
Someone said to me yesterday ‘Your boys are great. You’ve done a great job’. I said ‘I take no credit. They are who they are. They got lucky to be born who they are.’
She tried to argue with me a little. I said, ‘You and I both know amazing parents with horrible kids and horrible parents with amazing kids. As a parent I decided to have children. I live up to my own idea of what that commitment and responsibility is. How they turn out they turn out. I just need to know I have done my best. Lived up to my standards. The rest is up to them.’
Who or what your parents are is no reflection on who you are.
Who or what your children are is no reflection on who you are.
Loving someone for how they make you feel or what they do for you is one thing. Loving someone for who they are is something very different.
Being loved for how you make someone feel or what you do for someone is one thing. Being loved for who you are is something very different.
Clinging to the idea of the perfect Disney father is very damaging. For everyone. But particularly for those people who experienced abusive relationships. Trying to round an abusive or dysfunctional relationship up to normal creates cognitive dissonance, damage and sets a terrible example of what love is, what relationships are and what ‘normal’ looks like.
I raise a glass to all the humans out there doing their best.
I see you and I thank you. You are making a difference to people who are not even born yet. How do I know that? Because I was born, I was born on Father’s Day.
But it was also my birthday.
I choose to celebrate that.
Love conquers all x
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