Have you ever felt like a piece of you was missing, and you sought to fill that void in unhealthy ways?
Growing up without my father left a void in my heart that I spent my teenage years desperately trying to fill, often in all the wrong places. As a result, one memory that stands out is how boy-crazy I was. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, I realize that my behavior was driven by a deeper desire to be seen and loved.
My father was an integral part of my life for the first year, carrying me in a wrap, always close to his heart. However, this all changed when he was sent to jail. I was too young to comprehend what was happening, but his absence created a void in my life. Growing up without a father figure left me searching for that missing love and validation in all the wrong places.
It was no secret in our household that my father was in jail. My mom spoke ill of him, detailing his mistakes and the pain he caused. Because of what I heard about him in addition to my own feelings, I grew to hate him. I remember feeling angry, internalizing the negativity surrounding his absence and the man he was.
As I navigated my teenage years, this void manifested as an obsession with boys. I was boy-crazy, constantly seeking attention and validation. I invested too much time in boys and not enough in myself. One particular relationship stands out. I would skip school to hand out with him since I wasn’t allowed to have a boyfriend, and he quickly became my entire world.
I even dropped out of high school to be with him. I couldn’t keep up with my schoolwork with all the days I missed and eventually fell too far behind; convinced by anxiety I wouldn’t be able to catch up, I stopped going altogether.
This period of my life was at a standstill. While my peers enjoyed their youth, I worked full-time in retail, pretending to be an adult. My day was spent getting ready for work, making the trek there by walking to the bus stop and taking the bus, then spending hours at work only to come home, sleep, and do it all over again.
Years later my mother’s death threw me into a bout of PTSD. The pain helped me realize I needed to confront the void left by my father’s absence. I wasn’t eating, or sleeping and could barely function. I had a tumultuous relationship with my mom, and because of that, I thought I didn’t love her. But when she passed, I felt exactly how much I loved her, and it hurt so much. I didn’t want to experience similar that with my dad, so I reached out.
Our initial conversation was me telling him I needed to meet the real him. Not as my father but as the man that he is. We began rebuilding our relationship slowly, but it was a rocky road filled with setbacks and small victories. The challenging aspect was that as much as he was changing for the better, he was still very much the person he was, engaging in stupid life choices.
Despite these challenges, I realized that holding onto my anger and resentment was only hurting me. Forgiving him was not about excusing his actions but about freeing myself from resentment. As I got to know him again, I began to see how his absence impacted my life. I understood that my boy-crazy behavior was a manifestation of the love and attention I missed from him. This realization was both painful and enlightening. It allowed me to start healing and address the deep-seated issues that had influenced my actions for so long.
Just as we were beginning to rebuild our relationship and find some semblance of normalcy, tragedy struck again. My father, who was high and drunk, crashed his adult tricycle into a telephone pole. He ended up with a traumatic brain injury (TBI) and fought for his life with a trach and a feeding tube. While he’s made progress and no longer needs a trach or feeding tube, these days, he uses a wheelchair but can propel himself. He can do his daily living activities with assistance, like using the bathroom and showering. His memory isn’t there, though, so sometimes he looks at me like a stranger. As much as I love him, I hate visiting him because it hurts to see him living as a shell of who he once was.
Reflecting on my journey, I see how my father’s absence shaped my life in profound ways. It led to poor decisions and a misguided search for love and validation. But it also taught me about forgiveness and resilience. Today, I am in a much better place mentally because of this journey. Forgiveness and understanding have been powerful tools for healing. Your past may shape you, but it doesn’t have to define you. Embrace your journey, learn from it, and use it to build a future beyond your wildest dreams.