If find myself reliving memories - the day my father left us in Tampa, the feeling of victory when I made him hang up the phone because I was so entirely hateful, a walk through a park in Germany as he held my hand. My first seven years, I was a Daddy’s girl. Post-divorce, I was a wreck who intended on hurting anyone and everyone in my life. I was a wounded kid with undiagnosed manic-depression, so some of the blame goes to the illness, but I won’t lie, I was a total asshole. So, although I thought parents should be impervious to the nasty shit-flinging of their children, it took me decades to realize that my parents were human too. And they had flaws.

I stopped writing or speaking to my father when I was eighteen or nineteen. I don’t know exactly when I made the decision, or even if it was a conscious one because I was buried beneath a pretty time consuming drug addiction. It wasn’t heroine or meth, but it took up a lot of space. I joke that I can’t remember most of the 90’s. It’s funny in passing conversation, but in reality it’s kind of sad. And it was during those times, when I was so emotionally raw from my experience in becoming a birthmother and moving to another state alone, that I made the choice to cut my father out of my life.

I just realized, this entry, more than most, is going to be very personal. I guess that’s my warning.

Things come full circle, if you wait long enough. My relationship with my stepfather really ended years ago, with the accusation that my stepbrother molested me. You bring that kind of ugly to a family gathering, and nothing good will come of it. That truth, more than anything I believe, fractured what we had. We never recovered. I don’t think he likes me much. I was a total bitch to him growing up. And by the time I was ready to start having a civil conversation with him, the damage had been done. He couldn’t forgive me for being so cruel and rotten, and I would never live up to his expectations. These days, it’s civil and shallow, and we move on. My Mom and stepfather are in the process of a divorce. I know, pretty certainly, that we will have no contact at the end. He may hear about me through my sister, who still has a pretty good relationship with him, or through my brother, because my stepfather is the only Dad he’s ever known. My stepfather was there for many of the important things - my graduation day from high school, the day I found out I was pregnant with my birthdaughter, my wedding, the drive down to Miami for my move. I will be grateful for his guidance and wisdom. And when I found out about the divorce, I was very happy for my Mom, who has been my ally and close friend. But I was also sad because another possibility of a father was departing.

It’s hard being a Daddy’s girl with no Daddy.

Then came last week. My father, through my sister (this sounds like a daytime soap) professed an interest int contacting me again. She’s my little gatekeeper. She wouldn’t let him talk to me directly for fear that he would hurt me again. But things are very different now. I have my own family. I’m a birthmother, a wife, a beagle/kitty mommy, a writer, and a rockin’ coordinator for a solar company. But what I am not, at least not at this minute, is a daughter to a father. And this is where it all comes full circle.

My father wrote me a short, but nice e-mail. He professed his sincere apologies for what happened in the past but made a good point to allow the past to remain where it was and not to bring it into our future. Honestly, the e-mail didn’t really move me, which is strange. I think I’ve waited a long time for this and I expected something more - angels singing, rainbows, who knows. And I’ve not responded yet. Why? I don’t know what to say. I am actually speechless. And a touch confused. This will expose more issues than I usually like to reveal, but what if he finds out that I am a liberal vegetarian who rejects Christianity and war? And how can I hide who I am? My stepfather mocked my beliefs. My Mom told me he was trying to challenge what I believed, but he was very dismissive of my anti-war stance. Of course, he’s military, …but my father is as well. And I think they both function on the same conservative platform. But, then again, all I know of him I have learned through my sister and his actions towards her. They have maintained a strained relationship over the years. She accepts me. Will he?

I don’t know if I am afraid to write back because of the inevitable rejection, or because I’ve gone beyond the point of needing a father. I am very close with my Mom. She and I can discuss pretty much anything (except my sexuality, which still bothers her). I want the same kind of relationship with my father. That may be asking too much. He hasn’t been a part of my life since I was very young, whereas my mother fought through my shame and distance to make her presence felt, even when I lived in some very sketchy places in Miami. (BTW, I’m thinking out loud as I write this so sorry if this is a little disjointed). I think the best thing I can do is write back and expect very little. I have a very full life. My friends are amazing. My family rocks. My husband is the coolest man on the planet. Everything else is cake……. right?