Ghosting is a term used to describe the abrupt end of a relationship without any explanation or communication. I wasn’t familiar with this concept until I separated from my ex-partner. The first man I dated after that transition seemed wonderful—until he vanished without a trace. It was emotionally painful, and it quickly dawned on me that navigating the dating world was going to be challenging.
However, I soon discovered that the anguish I felt when ghosted by a male acquaintance paled in comparison to the heartbreak of witnessing my young son being ghosted by his biological father.
When I left my husband, I was somewhat naive. I recognized that our marriage was filled with darkness, control, and manipulation, yet I still held onto the hope that he valued our son above all else. I envisioned a co-parenting dynamic that would allow us to prioritize our child, with both of us eventually finding partners who would support him. I truly believed that was in our future.
That was until the day his father disappeared from our lives.
He re-emerged only to plead to relinquish his parental rights, bombarding not just me but also my family and attorney with relentless harassment. He turned his back, effectively ghosting a 5-year-old boy who adored him—an innocent child who had no understanding of what was happening.
The subsequent months were pure anguish.
There were nights filled with screams, as my son awoke in terror, crying for “Mommy” and thrashing about in his sleep. He would shout, “Daddy, don’t go!” over and over again while I desperately tried to comfort him. It was devastating.
We spent countless afternoons in therapy, helping my son process and grieve his loss. Each session required me to recount the situation, answer endless questions, and discuss his night terrors, anger, and sadness. I often found myself stepping into the hallway to break down, overwhelmed by our reality and heartbroken for my child.
I developed post-traumatic stress disorder, and my anxiety escalated into a panic disorder. The sound of a ringtone associated with his father would trigger panic attacks, and the mere sound of the doorbell would send me into a state of fear, worried it might be him at the door, even when it was just a delivery person. I always carried medication with me, ready to cope with those overwhelming moments.
I lived in a constant state of sorrow—not only my own but also for my son. I can vividly recall a moment when he looked at me and asked, “Does Daddy love his girlfriend more than me? Is that why he won’t come around?” How does one respond to such heartbreaking questions? A child should never have to voice these concerns, especially not at just 5 years old.
It took significant effort to dismantle the walls of resentment my son had built around me. His father had turned many friends and family against me during the divorce. I didn’t have the emotional strength to fight back at the time, but eventually, those people came to see the truth. Navigating a reality where my son was still loved by his father’s family, but not by his father, was incredibly challenging. Thankfully, we have since mended that relationship, and they are now a part of his life, but sharing the hurtful messages I received during that period took an emotional toll on both me and my family.
Then I began to dread the possibility of him returning. He had pulled a disappearing act before, and I feared the same would happen again, especially since his last absence coincided with the same date a year prior.
To provide my son with some stability, we made every effort to maintain consistency in his life. Teachers and counselors at his school were informed about the situation and provided invaluable support by monitoring his behavior and feelings. I also communicated whenever he experienced night terrors or difficult nights, as these often impacted his school day.
As time passed, my son slowly started to return to being the carefree 5-year-old he deserved to be. My partner of two years, who had supported us throughout this difficult journey, moved in. To our surprise, about six months later, my son started calling him “Papa” and referred to him as “basically my stepdad.”
We continued to see his father’s family regularly, ensuring that my son maintained those connections. Our lives carried on as they had before, just without his biological father’s presence.
Today, I am wiser than I was three years ago.
In February, exactly one year after my son’s father last reached out, a judge granted my petition to terminate his parental rights, giving me sole custody.
Father’s Day will always come with mixed emotions, reminding me of the son his father abandoned. My boy, however, has moved on. He will remember the men who stepped up to fill the void left by an absentee father—strong, loving figures who swim with him in the summer, attend his soccer games, and teach him how to fish. My son is surrounded by love and support, and he will be alright.
Recently, while driving on his last day of school, my son mentioned Father’s Day. In his gentle voice, he shared that they practiced writing cards like they had for Mother’s Day. “I love my daddy because daddy loves me,” he said. My heart broke at that moment, as he had always referred to his biological father as “Daddy.”
To redirect the conversation, I suggested we also do something for “Papa” since he’s “like a dad.” That’s when the weight of the past 18 months lifted from my heart, as my son replied, “But Momma, Papa is my daddy. The card is for him.”
Conclusion
In summary, navigating the trauma of being ghosted by a father is a profound challenge for both a child and a parent. While the pain of abandonment is deep, love and support can prevail, creating a nurturing environment for healing and growth. For anyone exploring options in parenting or insemination, resources like this home insemination kit or information on IVF may be useful.
Keyphrase: ghosted by father
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