Getting into a relationship with a woman, or man, who already has a child can't be easy. Getting with a woman who has me as a child can't be any easier.

I remember the very first day I met my stepdad. It was a pretty September day. My mom and I had just moved back to Michigan after living in Florida for a year or two. The air was crisp, the leaves were starting to change color, and there wasn't a single cloud in the sky. I was only four years old sitting in-between my mom’s legs while she played with my hair and there he was. This tall, white man with red hair and lots of tattoos eyeing my mom down. He came up and introduced himself as Red. From that moment on I had a bad feeling about this. Being the only child, it was always just my mom and I. My dad was only around when he came and picked me up on the weekends. If I had the choice to pick between my mom and dad, my mom always won. She won because my dad and I never have had a real relationship, that father daughter unbreakable bond. But I still continued my weekends over at my dad’s place in desperate need to keep my father in my life. The relationship between Red and my mom moved fast and soon he became this guy who showed up to my house and never left. He was stealing my mom from me.

Red didn’t want to come in my life and play daddy but he taught me things. Like if I don't like the lettuce or tomatoes on my sandwich, I didn't have to eat them. And if I wanted to drink pop instead of milk, I could. Soon I started to spend a lot of time with him and we became buddies. He was into things like old fashion cars, dirt bikes and four wheelers. All the things a mommy’s girl is not interested in, but he did it so I did it. There I was, this little girl with an oversized helmet smothered with princess stickers, ripping through the dirt trails on a four-wheeler following not too far behind Red. As the years went by and my relationship with Red grew, I noticed my relationship with my dad had not...

At the age of six, I was living a double life. One very happy, loved life; and one sad, neglected life. I had my little family at my mom’s house and my dad built his own new family at his house. A beautiful wife, a daughter and a newborn son. A beautiful wife, two daughters and a son if you count me, two days of the week. Friday would come and I would sit on the couch nervously to be picked up by my dad. Every weekend it felt like I was constantly getting in trouble for the stupidest things with my siblings in which I took the most blame for because I was the oldest. I hated fighting for my dad’s love and attention. And was lacking those things. Looking back now I see how selfish I was back then but in reality I just wanted that one on one, father daughter time with my dad. I craved his love and valued his opinion of me more than anyone. I never wanted to give up on him. I had so much faith in this man that he could be a dad to me and not just someone’s house I went over to every weekend. But every ounce of faith in me was slipping away and it was noticeable. Every weekend turned into every other weekend. Then every other weekend turned into whenever it was convenient. My dad never fought for me.

My ninth birthday was the worst birthday of my life. Red called my dad to see if my dad wanted to wish me a happy birthday and the offer was not accepted. My dad told Red that he was “done with that situation.” The situation was me. Metaphorically I was left and kicked to the curb by my own dad. He didn’t want me anymore. That moment I realized I wasn’t going to get that father daughter relationship with him anymore. But I also realized that I had a father daughter relationship this whole time but it was with Red. Over the next eight years I had small contact with my dad, on and off but nothing was ever permanent and that was the problem. I never felt that my dad was someone who was permanent in my life because Red felt permanent.

The thought of my own father not wanting to be in my life and how easily I was just forgotten about and why he never called was always in the back of my mind. It has caused inner issues within myself. I grow as a person every day and realize how strong I am now because I was able to get over that feeling that snuck up on me late at night when I was alone in my thoughts. I can’t thank Red enough for being there for me and never giving up on me no matter how hard things got. He is my dad and my best friend all in one. After all, he did teach me all things ranging from how to ride a bike to knowing right from wrong all the way to respecting myself as a young lady. Hitting all the major milestones in my life that my dad missed, I feel as if I didn’t miss a dad because Red was always there.

I am 18 years old now and in contact with my father. I’m very grateful for him for reaching out after eight years in an effort to build a relationship. To finally see how smart and beautiful my sister has grown to be and how strong and handsome my brother is, is everything I’ve ever wished for, I just wish I could have been there. I love my dad but he will never be the man who filled the hole in my heart when he is the one who broke my heart.