I have never lived with my father. In fact, I have never even met him, nor has he ever been a part of my life.
According to the stories I have been told about my biological father, he rejected me from the moment of conception by asking my mother to have an abortion. He came to see me when I was a newborn in the hospital and decided he wanted nothing to do with me because I was a girl.
When I was in kindergarten, he contacted my mother and threatened to kidnap me. My school teachers were all put on alert, and I was not allowed to leave with anyone except my mother or my Poppy.
We didn't hear anything from him again until I was 15 years old. I was visiting my grandparents who lived in a town very close to his. I was walking around the mall with my walkman and headphones, minding my own business. When I met up with my Nan, she pointed down the hall and said, "Do you know who that is?" I had no idea. She said, "That's your father."
Later that evening, when it was just Poppy and I home, my father called to talk to me. This was the first time I had ever heard his voice. His first words were, "This is your dad." We went on to have a conversation, though I have no idea what about, and we planned to meet the next day at his mother's house. When I hung up the phone, I started to bawl. I was feeling so many different emotions. It was a moment that I had been dreaming about my whole life.
The next day, my father's father showed up at our door. It was my first and only time ever seeing him. We chatted for a little bit, then he went on his way. Later that day, my Nan, my mom, and I drove to my father's mother's house so I could meet my grandmother, father, and other family members. While there, I met my half-brother and half-sister, as well as my grandmother, some aunts, uncles, and cousins. My father, however, did not show up. I was rejected again.
Three years later I wrote him a letter and included my phone number. Then, one evening, just as I was leaving for work, he called me. I didn't have time to talk, but, again, I started crying the moment I hung up the phone. Over the next few years, we chatted off and on. At one point he offered to buy me a plane ticket to go visit him, which never amounted to anything. He also told me he would come to see me, but that never happened either. He sent us a Christmas box one year, and I sent him a Bible.
We lost touch for a few years because he moved and I didn't have his new phone number.
A couple of years ago, he found me on Facebook. It was one of the most surreal times of my life when he and my mother commented after one another on one of my pictures. Both of my biological parents commented that they liked my photo. It was a first for me and I screenshotted it to save the moment forever.
When we began preparing for our trip to Newfoundland this summer, I told my father what night we would be in his town because I really wanted to meet him. At first, he was excited about it. Then, when the meeting was a couple of months away, he stopped responding to my messages. I texted him along the way, right up the night I was in his town, but he never did respond. I was rejected again.
I decided at that point I was done with trying so hard for something that clearly he didn't want. I was hurt and upset, so I blocked him on Facebook because I didn't want him knowing anything about my life.
A couple of months later, this past November actually, I had an assignment in one of my classes to write a Gospel Letter. So, I wrote a letter to my father and explained the gospel to him. I closed the letter saying, "Jesus died for you." At that point, I broke down in tears. God had softened my heart again towards my father. God helped me realize that I may be the only person in his life who will ever share Jesus with him. And, if the purpose in being his daughter is to share the gospel with him, then I better make sure I do that.
After that revelation, I decided to try messaging my father again. I told him I was sad I didn't get to see him and that I couldn't understand why he didn't want to meet me. I asked him what happened to our plans to meet. With every line I sent, he read it, yet he never replied. I sent him one last message telling him I was assuming he didn't want to hear from me anymore, that I was sad it didn't work out, and that I will continue to pray for him. I have not heard from him since. Rejected again.
I am still planning to mail him the Gospel Letter.
If I can be real and honest for a moment... Since these last two rejections, I have been asking myself some difficult questions that are attached to who I am as a person, and questions I may never get an answer to.
Why doesn't he want me?
What is so wrong with me that he doesn't want me?
How can my own father dislike me so much that he doesn't even want to meet me?
Why am I not good enough?
These questions leave me believing things like:
My own father keeps rejecting me, therefore all men reject me.
If I can prove to the men in my life that I'm capable of certain things, or that I am valuable because of what I can do, then perhaps I will receive some positive affirmation from them, and they will accept me (which mentally I know is only a substitute for the person I really want to be accepted by, my father.)
I have a father-sized hole in my heart that will never get filled.
I will never be good enough.
That's the story. My next post will share of the Hope I have despite all of this.
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