It has now been 16 months since I last saw my dad. And aside from a few Facebook messages wishing me happy holidays or a happy birthday, this is also the last time I spoke with him.

Sixteen months is a considerable length of time, especially for a college student who learns something new about herself every day. Since I last saw my father I have stopped eating meat. I have traveled to far off states and countries. I have completed an internship at a globally renowned company.

Does he know?

Does he care?

As you can see, my relationship with my father is far from spectacular. However, there was a time I was considered a daddy’s girl. Growing up, my dad was the “cool” parent. He would drop off candy and notes for me at after-school care. He’d sign me out of camp to spend the afternoon at Six Flags. He spontaneously bought a drum set for my brother and I to bang on.

Progressing into my teen years, though, my dad began to lose his charm. He’d show up late when picking us up for the weekend, or sometimes not at all. He started house-hopping every couple years. I began figuring out things that typical twelve-year-olds are oblivious to.

The distance between us continued to grow over the years. My brother and I were busy with school, work and extracurriculars, and my dad was always on the road. Our weekly visitation quickly dwindled to every couple weeks, then months, and now years.

Despite the tears shed and hurt feelings, I know my dad loves me. And I love him.

In the wise words of Kylie Jenner, 2016 has been a year for “realizing things.” And what I’ve learned this year is that you can’t change a person.

Of course, I still believe that people can change, but rather from their own doing and not the people surrounding them. I cried, yelled and pleaded with my dad to get his act together for years, not understanding that my words ultimately changed nothing.

"A daughter should not have to beg her father for a relationship" - Milk & Honey

Sometimes the cards you are dealt in life aren’t exactly the ones you wanted. Does that mean you automatically discard them and throw them back in the pile?

I know I am not the only person who has an estranged relationship with a parent or family member. I am sure my situation mimics thousands of others, each with their own hardships and pain points. It is a touchy subject that few are comfortable speaking openly about.

While we are connected over social media, I am not sure that my dad will see this article. And if he did, would he say something? Or what’s worse, will he not?

Most kids just want to know they are loved and cherished, and an absent parent makes that hard. It instills self-doubt in our hearts – why doesn’t my own dad want to be in my life? Why doesn’t he care?

It is hard to come to terms with who your parent is; sometimes it feels nearly impossible. The amount of times I’ve considered never speaking to my dad again is countless. Every time I try to move past it, though, I remember the way he plays guitar. Or his passion for cars. The fact that he’s my dad.

I can’t change who my dad is and I’m not sure that I’d want to. He showed me what good music was, relentlessly supports any dreams I have and taught me to love without boundaries. Maybe that makes up for our rocky past or maybe it doesn’t. Not all relationships function as a perfect give-and-take.

I urge others with an absent parent – whether you haven’t seen them in years or you live with them every day – to find solace in the fact that you are not alone. You are not the only one with a parent that seems less than interested in being a part of your life, and their actions are in no way a reflection of the person you are. Love is a language that everyone speaks differently, and just because you are speaking different tongues doesn’t mean you’re not trying to communicate the same message.

I will see my dad again someday, but whether that’s next week or next year, I’m unsure. What I do know, though, is that when I do, I’ll greet him with a hug and a peaceful heart.