Even though I have a father, I can’t say I ever had a dad! I was raised by my mother and stepfather who could had take this blessed role but chose to turn it into something else. My father figure was and still is my deceased uncle, he embodied everything a lil girl and a grown up woman idealizes and seeks in a man, the first man of her life and the most important one, EVER. I lost him twice to a WAR, the first time when me family fled from our homeland and later when it took his physical life, on my birthday. I still morn this loss and cry every time I think about him. If women look for their fathers in their partners, I look for my uncle. Strong, brave, caring, his love and protection made me want to do everything to please him: my first meal (raw meat and potatoes LOL ) were for him, the first dish I ever washed. I WAS his little girl and because he was the one who named me, I now love and respect my name. While many people use nicknames, I always use mine, the one he gave me and honor it.
I do not hate my father, but I don’t call him that or feel he is my father. I know I broke his heart when as a teenager I told him I would not call him that, but being called dad, father, mom or mother is something that needs to be earned.
I have two children and the father does not live with us, I often wonder if I failed them.
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