I'll be honest, just looking for a picture to head this article makes me choke up. I know that I am supposed to be over it- given that I'm 22 and life goes on, but dang it, I'm hurting in ways I can't fully express because you decided that I wasn't worth sticking around.

I wonder how you were able to manage 18 years of me "griping, complaining, and being needy" before you decided to skip out. I wonder how you could leave us on Christmas Day with all the family money.

I wonder how you never asked me how college was going or even how I was taking care of myself- you just asked me about sports. How Dak was doing this week. But most of all I wonder how you could walk away from my 18-year journey to make you proud. Clearly, we had different definitions of what proud is.

I want you to know that there are no daddy issues here, though. You leaving was honestly the best thing that could have happened to me. When you left Mom, Baylee, and I banded together like never before. You consolidated us in a way that your presence ever could. Because you created a void in me, I could finally step into myself. I want you to know that you will not be there for my college graduation, you will not be there for the birth of my children or my wedding. You haven't earned that.

I know that all of this is coming out scorned and upset and quite literally just angry, but here is the thing- I am just so disappointed. I am disappointed that you cannot seem to understand what I offer as a child and I feel sad for you that you don't get to experience my life. Because here is the thing- in the past four years Mom and I have built a beautiful life. We saved the properties from foreclosure, I am succeeding in school, I joined a sorority, and my life Is overall amazing. That's on me. Not you. Every time I send you a text, I just want you to know that I am not asking for your affection or approval or whatever you seem to think it might be. At the end of the day, I guess I actually should be thanking you for ruining me, leveling my life down to the cinderblocks. Because that is is what made me who I am. It made me a woman. It showed me how to rely on myself. Most importantly it taught me that I am enough. With or without you.