Let’s get straight to the point: the man you call dad is not your biological father. One day, I will have to voice this truth, because eventually, you will come to me with questions. You’ll look back and remember when our last name was different, and you’ll realize that it didn’t change just because “Mommy and Daddy got married.” You’ll notice the physical contrasts, hear bits and pieces from others, and even find yourself in school with your half-sibling. Yes, there are others out there who share your blood, and you might not even be aware of it yet.
You don’t yet understand what a stepfather is, but I will have to explain it all. I’m still trying to piece together a narrative—a blend of truth and carefully selected details that I feel you can handle. I will admit that I’ll be less than truthful at times. I can’t pretend otherwise. I’ll shield you from the harsh realities until you’re old enough to sift through court documents or seek the truth yourself, because as your mother, the thought of causing you pain is unbearable.
To my daughter, I’ll share that your father was there for me during a difficult time. I’ll explain that some people have a tendency to nurture broken things, and he was one of those individuals. He wanted to help me heal, but things didn’t pan out as we hoped. I’ll tell you that we tried our best to parent together, but he eventually moved on to someone else who needed him more. I’ll say that he chose your stepfather, deeming him worthy of adopting you.
What I won’t share is how he faded from our lives—how his calls dwindled and excuses piled up. I won’t mention that he had other children or that the person he was with wanted us out of the picture, and that he willingly made that choice. I’ll pray that you forget any of this ever happened.
To my son, I’ll describe how your father and I were like live grenades waiting to explode. I’ll tell you we loved deeply but burned out quickly. I’ll share that he was a brave man, serving his country multiple times, each time losing a part of himself in the process. I’ll explain that he knew he couldn’t be the father you needed, so he stepped back. I’ll tell you that he asked your stepdad to adopt you, hoping to complete our family.
I won’t delve into the darker elements of our relationship—the betrayals, substance abuse, or the fights. I won’t mention the financial struggles or how the church provided us with Christmas gifts in hefty trash bags. The only father you know is the one who has been there for you.
Yet, I dread the day when I must reveal the truth—when a last name no longer suffices to bridge the gap of biology. You’ll want to seek out your biological father, to meet him, to explore the family you didn’t know existed. I wish we were enough for you, but deep down, I know that day is inevitable.
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Summary
The article discusses the complex reality of navigating family dynamics when a biological father is absent. It reflects on the difficult truths that parents must eventually share with their children regarding their familial background while emphasizing the love and commitment of the stepfather. The piece also touches on fertility options for those looking to start a family.
Keyphrase: biological father not dad
Tags: [“home insemination kit”, “home insemination syringe”, “self insemination”]