My Heart Hurts For This Relationship

The Father I Needed But Never Had

There’s a certain kind of ache that never really goes away — the ache of missing something you never truly had. For me, that ache comes from the relationship I don’t have with my dad.

I can still remember being a little girl, maybe around nine years old, and realizing something had shifted. He didn’t stay for us the same anymore. He wasn’t showing up, not in the way a father should. It’s like one day he just… checked out. And even though I was young, I felt it deep in my spirit — the distance, the silence, the absence. I have a vivid memory of consistently being left at elementary school ,because he was supposed to pick me up …..He never showed up. My Momma would have to scramble to find someone to pick me up. nI would sit in the school office and just cry. Why am I not important? Why am I not priority?

I grew up watching other girls have that unspoken bond with their fathers — the protective hugs, the proud smiles, the “that’s my baby girl” moments. I wanted that so bad. Not because I was jealous, but because I knew how much I needed it. A father’s love shapes how a daughter sees herself, how she trusts, how she allows love in. And when that piece is missing, you learn to build walls instead of roots.

For years, I tried to fill that void — through achievements, relationships, and independence. I became strong, maybe too strong at times. I told myself I didn’t need him. But the truth is, I did. Every girl does.

Now, as a woman, I can look back and understand that he was broken in some form. Maybe life hit him in ways I’ll never understand. Maybe he didn’t know how to be a father. But even with that understanding, the little girl inside me still hurts. She still wonders what it would have been like to have a dad who stayed, who showed up, who made her feel safe and seen.

I’m learning now that healing doesn’t always come from reconciliation — sometimes it comes from acceptance. From realizing that the love I craved from him, I can give to myself. That I can rewrite the story for the next generation. That my sons will know presence, protection, and love without condition.

My heart still aches, but it also grows. Because every tear, every disappointment, every unanswered question has shaped me into the woman I am — strong, loving, and whole, even without the father-daughter bond I once dreamed of.

There’s this part of me that always wondered what I did wrong. Was I too quiet? Too needy? Did I make him tired somehow? As a little girl, you don’t understand adult pain — you just feel the loss. You just feel unwanted.

I’ve learned how to smile through it. I learned how to be strong, how to act like it didn’t bother me. But the truth? It did. Every time I saw another girl with her dad — laughing, hugged up, protected — it stung. That kind of love felt like a fairytale I’d never get to live.

It’s hard to explain what it does to a girl’s heart when her father isn’t there to show her what love is supposed to look like. You start trying to earn love. You start settling because you were never taught what a full heart feels like.

Even now, as a grown woman, there’s still a little girl inside me wishing he would’ve stayed. Wishing he would’ve seen me, chosen me, loved me the way I deserved.

But I’ve also learned that sometimes healing means accepting the apology you’ll never get. It means looking at your pain and deciding it won’t define you anymore.

I’m not angry at him. I’m just sad. Sad for the years we lost. Sad for the bond we never built. Sad that he missed out on watching me become the woman I am today.Im more sad that he hasnt built a relationship with my sons. If he walked down the street ,they wouldnt know who he was. I tried ,but I also realized that you also have to protect your children from uneccesary trauma. Im teaching my sons how to see,hear and feel. Use your senses ,no matter who you are around. No one should make you feel less than.

And yet, even in that sadness, I’m grateful. Because his absence taught me how to be present. His silence taught me how to listen to my own heart. His distance taught me the importance of showing up — fully, completely, and without condition. I remember a church sermon allowed me to understand that sometimes you need their DNA and not their presence in your life.

Maybe one day I’ll stop wondering why. But for now, I’m just letting myself feel it — the ache, the grief, and the truth of what never was.

Because that’s the only way to heal.

To My Sons

My Young Men,
I share this not to make you sad, but to help you understand how powerful a father’s love truly is. I want you to know that your presence, your consistency, and your love will one day mean the world to your children.

Be the kind of fathers who show up — not just with gifts or words, but with time, patience, and heart. Let your children feel safe in your arms and confident in your love. Teach them that showing emotion doesn’t make you weak — it makes you human.

I didn’t have that growing up, but I made a promise that the pain would stop with me. You are the reason I learned how to heal, how to love without fear, and how to value connection over pride.

Always remember, being a great father isn’t about perfection — it’s about presence. And I know in my heart, you will be everything I wished for and more.

With all my love,
Momma #muah