Dear "Dad" this one's for you-

Because of you, I can’t have a stable relationship. Because of you, I think every guy that’s supposed to love me will leave the way you did. Because of you, I can’t stand to trust anyone. Because of you, the world frightens me. Because of you, the word “love” doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. You brought me into this world, daddy, my father you were suppose to be. Where are you now? Instead you were only a coward who couldn’t handle raising a child. Because of you, fear runs through my heart, questions run through my head, sadness through my bones, and brokenness in my eyes. Because of you, I can only hope that someone someday can love me the way that you were supposed to. You say, “forgive and forget,” but how do you expect me to do that when you left me before I was old enough to even understand? You weren’t there for my first walk, my first talk, years of birthday parties, my first heart break, my graduation, you weren’t there to watch me grow up with passion in my heart. You missed all the good times in my life because you were too busy feeling sorry for yourself. I may resemble you physically, but I will never let you have the power to let my heart grow cold the way yours did. I refuse to push people away that love me, the way you did to Mom and I.

You were in and out of my life until I was a toddler, I only saw you when it was convenient for you and if you didn't want to take me, you dropped me off at your family's so they would have to deal with me while you partied. The last time you saw me, you told my mom that you couldn't do it anymore. Even though I only have seen you a massive number of five times by the time I was three, I don't count them because you passed me off to the closest person who was old enough to watch me. Being a dad just wasn't part of your plan and I forgive you for that.

I never imagined myself writing poetry about you or thanking you for abandoning me. I mean, you never bothered with me until I turned 18 because that meant you wouldn't have to pay child support. So, why on earth would I thank the person who was supposed to be there for these past twenty years and wasn’t? Why would I thank a man who left a 20-year-old with a newborn child, because that’s what you did to my mom, wasn’t it? Why would I thank someone who wanted absolutely nothing to do with me? For the past twenty years I have questioned if anyone would ever love me because, if my own father couldn’t, how could the man I marry? You are the hardest topic to talk about when it comes to conversations and people who know me well know that I am as open as a book, but you hold me back. "Sesa? That's unique, tell me why you were named that." "You look nothing like your family." These two statements are the ones I hear often and they are the hardest to answer. Why would I want to tell people that my dad left me when I was little and hasn't tried talking to me since? I stray away from giving the story of you for as long as I can.

I guess the only answer to all these questions that have ran through my head is that you taught me an enormous amount of valuable things. One of the biggest lessons you taught me was that running away from problems will never solve anything. Example: me. I know that after you left, you probably never thought you would have to deal with me again almost like I was dead to you, but there I was all over your Facebook page; happy, beautiful, and finally, I had a real family. I had a real dad that took your place, someone who filled your shoes perfectly— a man who put the pieces back together that you broke so well, easily. You saw this and instead of being happy for me, you tried to contact me and beg for another chance. Why? Was it because you were hoping I was doing worse than you were? Or maybe it was because you saw how good I turned out without any help from you, of course? So I gave you the chance I thought you deserved but it became obvious that you never really did care about me then and now. You never asked why I switched schools because I got bullied, you never asked how I was doing after grandma passed away, you never asked what college I was interested in attending, you never asked how happy I was, you never asked how I was handling my depression; probably because you didn't know any of this since you were never there. You had too many of your own problems which were more important than your child. I was just, yet, another great mistake you made in life. You have taught me to take responsibility for my actions and to deal with my issues head on. Witnessing you unable to be a man and own up to your own mistakes made me realize that I could never be like that. I know that I need to deal with my problems or I will become you, and that will never be an option. My mom struggled to work multiple jobs to take care of me and put food on the table because you left her with nothing— nothing besides a child. Although we struggled financially for a few years, we never struggled to find happiness and love within one another. Then there is you; miserable and always wanting to tear people down to be on your level.

I used to wonder what your favorite colors were, or if your laugh sounded anything like mine, and maybe you had some of the same odd obsessions about life that I did. It felt like there was always a piece of me missing because you were gone but I soon realized that there cannot be a piece missing if that piece doesn’t want to be found. You will always have a special place in my heart but it is time for me to let go of the made up “you” I have been imagining because he isn’t there. I was naive to think things would be different, that if I gave you another chance it would be different but just like every other boy I have given my chances out to, even you let me down. Growing up, you made me believe that there was something wrong with me because my own father wanted nothing to do with me but instead, better things came.

This article wasn't meant to tear you down or to make you feel guilty; it is an open letter to you about all of the feelings and words that I have been bottling up for twenty years. I am not trying to kick dirt on your name or your existence either; I am voicing the hurt you put me through as well as speaking up for my mother, and all of my siblings that you did the same thing too as well as their mothers. I am doing what no one else has the courage to do; stand up to you and put you in your place. I pray that you do not put anymore of your children through the heartbreak, curiosity, and worthlessness the way you did to me. You are supposed to be a father not a sperm donor.

You broke my heart before any other boy ever could.

You have missed so much, so let me give you a recap of the biggest events I fell in love with that you happened to miss because you were absent. You have missed several "firsts" and many "lasts" so I will show you the important ones.

You missed mom taking care of me with no help-- financially, physically, emotionally. You missed out on her working multiple jobs to take care of me, a baby that you helped bring into this world. You left a 20-year-old woman alone, but little did you know that she had the strength to take on this world by herself. She didn't need you and I didn't need you. She wasn't just my mom, she was my best friend. We were all each other had; us against the world. She took care of me when I was sick, when I came home crying because of the girls at school, when I needed her the most. Thank you for helping us become so close because you failed to be there for both of us. You didn't just abandon a daughter, you abandoned love, you abandoned a women who would've walked through hell for you, and you abandoned a family.

"I love you to the moon and back, to infinity and beyond."

You missed my first school picture in kindergarten that mom stressed out about because she wanted it to look perfect. Waking me up at 6 am to put my hair in braids; I swear she always had the tightest grip when she used to do my hair. I wish you would have seen how great of a mother she became when she had nothing except me. Grocery shopping, school shopping, the bills-- all on her own. This picture shows just how put together I was at such a young age and it was all due to the fact that mom cared more about me than herself. So selfless she is. So selfish you were.

You missed endless holidays and birthdays these past twenty years. Twenty of my birthday's you have missed; how does that make you feel? Do you feel thankful for me when Thanksgiving comes? Do you pray every Christmas that I make it home safe to my family the way I have done for you all these years? When December 18 comes every year, I wonder to myself if you can even remember that it is another birthday for me; another birthday you are missing. No calls, no letters, no messages. I have went twenty years without anything, so what's another decade? What about when I start my own family? Years will pass by where we make no contact and the fact that you brought me into this world and it doesn't make you flinch thinking about not knowing me breaks my heart, but what's new.

You missed the first time I made Homecoming court my freshman year of high school and then, again the second time my senior year. I found myself looking for your face in the crowd those nights. "Maybe he saw it on his family's Facebook that I made it for the Queen representative" or "Maybe he's really happy for me" were the sentences that ran through my head the Friday night before I walked out on the field in front of my entire city. All familiar faces I saw except for yours. You missed every, single dance I went to throughout middle school and high school. You missed the dress and shoe shopping, the hair and nail appointments, the perfect date I had for every one of them, and the countless pictures taken because mom didn't have enough. The only other time in my life that I will feel just as beautiful as I did my senior year for Homecoming court will be my wedding day, but who knows if you will miss that special day of mine, too.

You missed my first relationship, my first love, and my first heartbreak that wasn't you. You missed the bond that him and mom had, the countless vacations, the uncontrollable laughter at dinner when he would make a joke making one of us spit our food out, you missed the love shared. You missed out on meeting a beautiful soul who once cared and loved your baby girl with everything he had. You missed the arguments, you missed the frustration of a relationship that lasted years, you missed the tears. You missed watching us both grow from seventh grade until senior year because he was like family. You missed watching me go from a happy, bubbly girl to someone who didn't want to get out of bed and couldn't hold back the tears my last month of high school due to a break up. That's OK because I had two other parents to make sure I was happy and healing.

You missed all of my softball, volleyball, basketball, and soccer games. You missed all of the memorable parent and senior nights. You missed the passion and love that I had for sports; you didn't even know that soccer was my favorite sport. I can't even explain the excitement I had when I became head captain; you missed that too. My mom always taught me that once I start something, it needs to be finished and giving up was never an option. You weren't the best role model when it came to that but that has always been the difference between you and I. I was the leader of a group of girls, willing to grow and learn just like I was as a little girl, looking up to you to show me the ways of life. Things got tough every year during my soccer career but that didn't mean I was going to walk away from my position like you did as my dad. The last district game of my soccer career was the hardest thing high school has put me through. Once the buzzer went off ending my last game, I found myself kneeled down on the ground sobbing because I knew once I took my jersey off, that I would never put it on again. So how could you walk away from me and know you might not see me again with dry eyes? I sobbed after a district soccer game, you didn't even think twice about walking away from a human being's life.

You missed the first time I met my big sister, the one you abandoned too-- leaving her and her mother with nothing. You did it to her and her mother first, then me and my mother next; you seem to be a pro at this. On June 13, 2015 I met Maranda at my graduation party with tear filled eyes and happiness in my heart. I hugged her and it felt like a part of me became whole again, a piece that you took away from both of us. To my surprise, we were exactly alike and thankfully we are more like our moms and each other than like you. You missed the laughter spread, the photos taken, the awkward silence when we weren't sure what to talk about next, and all the missed time shared. You missed the silence right before we both went to say something at the same time and we did the, "you go first!" "No you go first!" You may have left me but you gave me one of the greatest gifts; a sister. A sister who has been through the same amount of hurt that I have been. A sister who is strong and beautiful that doesn't take crap from anyone just like me because that's the way our mom's raised us. Thank you for helping us find ourselves in one another.

You missed the biggest day of my high school career that I worked extremely hard for. You missed the stressful nights of filling out scholarship and college applications, the millions of college visits, cap and gown fittings, senior pictures, and experiencing all of the "last" of things I would be doing. You missed helping me decide on what university I would spend the next four years at. You missed the last Friday night football game. You missed my last Thanksgiving and Christmas at home. You missed my last spring break to Florida, which never got easier for mom because she was always a wreck if I left her for more than two days. You missed my last home soccer game and parents night. You missed my last day of high school. You missed my last time walking through the halls and across the football field to receive my diploma. While I sat in my seat at graduation, I couldn't help but think whether or not you would have been proud of everything I had accomplished. Once again, looking throughout the hundreds of people in the stands, I found my eyes skimming in hopes that maybe you would be there even though I knew you weren't-- I wanted to have faith in this very moment. My eyes met my families and, at that point, I realized that I didn't need you to be proud of me, I just needed them to be because they were the ones that mattered the most and the ones that had been there since day one.

While you missed all of my "lasts" in high school, you missed all of my "firsts" when college came right around the corner last August. You weren't there when I packed up my entire room that I spent most of my time in and had memories scattered across the air in. You weren't there to help me move in the last week of August to the University that my parents helped me choose. You weren't there to lug everything into my small room and help unpack for hours. You missed my awesome tour guide skills as I showed my parents around campus, especially the library because that's moms favorite place. You missed the constant calls home because of the frequent anxiety attacks, 100% on English papers, or how I met a really nice boy who made me happy. You missed my first time home during Christmas and then having to leave the next day because I had to work. You missed the constant "I've missed you" remarks as soon as I walked through the front door and the hardest goodbyes. There wasn't one time that I didn't look in my rear view mirror without crying because it was hard to leave my family. You missed all the good things about life as well as all of the bad. I hope someday you look back and wish you hadn't missed out on my life but until then I will strive to be successful and happy with what I am blessed with.

I received this text from you a few months ago out of the blue. I had different emotions running through my mind as I read this text in my head and then again out loud especially when you said, "I don't mean to bother you." Since when is a "dad" who's wondering how his daughter has been a bother. If that is what bothering means, I wish you would have bothered me these past twenty years. I wish you would have bothered me every day, all day. To add to your text, yes I was doing very well. I just got out of my first year of college a few weeks before then and I was working every day. Me, busy? Always. I have never been too busy to want to have a real life conversation with you, besides the ones I would make up in my head for whenever you decided to contact me. You have no idea how many times I would drive through the city where you live in hopes that maybe I would see your face but if I walked passed you on the street I wouldn't even know it was you.

I hate picturing what life would have been like if you stayed; would I be alive? Would I be happy? Would I be in college right now? All these questions I will never have the answers to and I am OK with that. The biggest thing I want to thank you for is giving me the opportunity to have a better life without you. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to become so close to mom. She took care of me when I wasn’t feeling good, drove me to school, and worked her ass off to provide for us. In conclusion to her actions, her work ethic rubbed off on me and I worked hard to get good grades so I could go to an amazing college. Thank you for giving mom the opportunity to meet Dave, a man who showed me that a Dad will stay, that a Dad will love, that a Dad will be there; it wasn’t you and that’s OK. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to have a real, stable family. I thank God every day that He sent my other dad to me when you left. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to become me. To explore this world, to feel heart break, to learn to love people and their flaws, to understand that not everyone is suppose to stay, to excel in everything I do, to have goals, and to be myself; thank you.

A song that will forever make me think of you: