I haven’t spoken to my father in almost two years, and it’s been a painful and complicated journey. One of the pivotal moments for me was on my wedding day. I didn’t receive any message from him—not even a simple acknowledgment. I had hoped to hear from him, and his silence cut deeply, making me realize how distant we had become.
I feel a lot of anger and sadness because it seems like we will never have the relationship I’ve always wanted. I long for a connection where he takes interest in my life and my choices, even when they differ from his own. Instead, I often feel dismissed or disregarded, especially when it comes to my boundaries. For example, whenever politics comes up, I feel disrespected because he tends to push against the limits I’ve tried to set.
There’s also a significant element of fear in our dynamic. I worry that if I attempt to rebuild our relationship, he might use his financial resources as a means of control over me and my family. This fear makes it hard for me to see a path forward that feels safe and genuine.
Right now, I’m in a space where I’m trying to determine IF or how I want to re-establish any sort of relationship with him. I want to find out if it’s possible for us to interact in a way that respects each other’s boundaries, takes a real interest in one another’s lives, and supports each other’s choices—even when we disagree. It’s a difficult and ongoing process, but I’m trying to be honest with myself about what I need and what I’m willing to work towards.
One year, my father said he didn’t think he could visit. I have his only grandkids. He’s retired and rich. He has connections to get cheap travel. He takes multiple out-of-country trips a year (that I’ve never been on). There is literally no reasonable explanation why he can’t visit in a year and plenty of typical reasons for him to do so. I haven’t talked to him in more than 5 years.
My anger/sadness dulls with time, but never goes away. I constantly have to remind myself that the father I want doesn’t exist and never did. It has gotten easier with time, but it’s still a scar. Just like a real scar, it gets angry from time to time, but it’s not as bad as when I first got it.
It’s taught me a lot of lessons. It taught me not to be like him. My mom once asked my wife “where did he learn to play with the kids like that? His father never did that.” When my wife told me that, I couldn’t explain it, either. I just treat my kids like I wanted to be treated when I was a kid.
I’ve gone to therapy and it helps. Maybe I should go back. As my kids grow, I’m learning new ways in which he failed me and our family. I never knew what I was missing, but now that I have to provide that for my kids, I see what he did wrong. Every year it’s something new. I imagine it’ll be that way until I die.
So, I’m sorry, but I don’t think it ever disappears (as you can tell by the energy I’m typing with). I think it fades. Take from it the lessons that you can. Don’t let the pain be fruitless. Acknowledge it, use it as guidance, “I know what not to do.”
One of the biggest things that I’ve come to realize is that despite my PO parents saying I was their priority they failed to move towards me when I needed them most. It’s their lack of attunement that hurts.