
“My father was pretty much non-existent after the age of seven. He’d call occasionally, and say things like ‘I’m going to visit more,’ or ‘I’m going to help you with this,’ but he’d never follow through. He started a new family, and I think he convinced himself that he wasn’t needed because my mother would take good care of us. The last time I talked with him was the age of 18. I called him from my freshman dorm room at college, and I said: ‘Either be a father, or leave me alone, and stop holding me back.’ He said: ‘I can’t be that person for you.’ So I never spoke with him after that. I never reached out because I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I’d turned out OK despite his decisions. When he died, I realized that we’d both been too proud to start a relationship. I should have swallowed my pride and been the bigger man.”
Published on June 24, 2015 10:21