“MEETING MY DAD” In my life, my mother has always been there for me, providing care and sharing her wisdom. But as I got older, I noticed that I didn’t have both a mom and dad like my classmates did. This difference wasn’t something I paid much attention to earlier because my uncles and grandpa acted as father figures for me. It wasn’t until I started school that the absence of someone to call “Dad” truly struck me.
When I was five years old, I witnessed a troubling situation that raised challenging questions for my mother to address with me. As a young and immature girl, I struggled to fully comprehend all of her explanations. My life carried on without my father being present, as he would occasionally make empty promises during rare phone calls. Rather than speaking negatively about him, my mother stressed that my perception of my dad would be based on his actions rather than her own viewpoint.
After a few calls, he ceased communication with me. At the age of ten, I had an unexpected opportunity to finally meet him. I constantly questioned myself, wondering why this was happening now that I had accepted it would just be my mom and me. Meeting this stranger instilled in me a genuine fear of depending on him. The day of the meeting arrived suddenly, and I cannot adequately convey how anxious I felt. Being in an unfamiliar house only increased my nervousness.
In my uncle’s uncomfortable and freezing cold house, the tense environment made me feel insecure and frightened. Being away from my protective cocoon, my own house, intensified these feelings. Time passed quickly until suddenly, as if by lightning, the moment of meeting him arrived. Standing before me was an average height man in his 30’s. Emotions surged within me and disbelief caused my legs to shake uncontrollably. I couldn’t believe it – he bore a striking resemblance to me. Thick black hair, enormous eyes adorned with endless eyelashes, and that unmistakable dark mole on my neck – he had it too.
The only physical differences between that stranger and I were the big bushy mustache above his lips and the fact that I’m a girl, while he’s not. After ten minutes of staring at each other, the man broke the ice by giving me a tight hug that felt like a python strangling me. Once I caught my breath, he said, “Hi, I’m your dad.” Silence followed those words. He then asked for a big hug, which made me wonder why this stranger was asking for one. It’s like asking any random person out there if they want to hug me – they would probably be confused and scared. But he didn’t seem to grasp that concept despite my strange looks. The evening remained mostly silent for me except for expressing gratitude: “Thanks for bringing me into this world, but aside from that, I haven’t needed you and I’m certain I never will.”
Uncertain if I had finished speaking, the man immediately started to cry, with tears streaming down his face. Conversely, despite shedding tears myself, I kept them concealed within me to remain composed and hide any vulnerability from him. Subsequent to our conversation, I stayed at my uncle’s residence for a few days while the man visited me daily and kindly bestowed gifts upon me. Possibly attempting to compensate for all the things he couldn’t provide me over the last decade.
Despite the fact that this person could not provide enough money or gifts and was also absent for important moments in his daughter’s life, such as her first words and steps, as well as other priceless experiences that cannot be bought. The time spent at my uncle’s house passed quickly, and when I returned home, the man who wanted to be called “dad” promised me that we would stay in touch. Trustingly, I believed him because of how convincingly he presented himself.
Having been let down by someone failing to fulfill their promises, I have learned the significance of not placing blind trust in others. This personal conflict has deeply affected me, making it difficult to completely rely on individuals. A persistent fear remains that they might bring harm, and I acknowledge that this struggle will persist throughout my lifetime.
