Dating : This Is How You Can Set Yourself Free

I’ve had this little bubble of hurt within me for the last 17 years.

The hurt was from my father not being there. Not paying attention to me, not trying to find me, not making any effort to communicate with me, being absent during the challenging moments of life, being absent for the first heartbreak, the second one, the third, the list goes on.

After my mom found him two summers ago now, that bubble of hurt didn’t evaporate; it actually became bigger because he remained the absent father he’s always been. The only difference was that I’d get a “hello” from him from time to time, and I knew he was alive.

A few months ago, I decided to stop responding to his “hello” because it felt like the relationship wasn’t progressing the way I wanted. I was also busy and overwhelmed with my own life, and I wanted to better utilize the mental space that I had used for him for other things.

I didn’t delete Whatsapp, which is what we used to communicate, and every now and then, he would send me pictures of food or say something unimportant. He wasn’t actively trying to build anything between us. I wasn’t cutting him off; I was just busy. I’m in the midst of growing my writing career, rebuilding myself, and creating a life for my family.

I knew in the back of my mind that eventually, I’d have to face him, and everything I tried to sweep under the rug would have to be analyzed.

I waited for him for 17 years; he could wait a few months for me.

However, I recently found out that I’m not his only child, his wife, who I had no knowledge of, is pregnant, and it’s a girl.

I got angry first. I felt a rush of fear go through my body, the idea of the person whose attention I had craved my entire life was going to be giving it to someone else now.

Anger is an interesting emotion; when you get past the aggressive aspect of it, it’s really quite transformative. It can motivate you to change what needs to be changed in your life. It can help you move forward when you’ve been stagnant.

I cried after. I cried because it genuinely hurt, but I also cried because I was frustrated with myself for crying over a man who has always been so disinterested in me.

Why do we crave the love of people who aren’t capable of giving it to us?

Is it because we want to fulfill a fantasy? Satisfy our egos?

Why is it so hard to let go of someone who doesn’t care?

Are we trying to prove we’re worthy of their love? Do we think they’ll change their minds?

We constantly let ourselves make the wrong decisions in the hopes of things working out the way we want. We bypass the voice in the back of our heads telling us what’s right from wrong because the tiniest part of us thinks, somehow, magically, this person will love me the way I deserve to be loved.

We push the feelings away, sweep the issues under the rug, move on with life, and don’t face reality. We cage ourselves in, instead of simply making the hard but the right choice that will inevitably set us free.

You stay with the wrong person because you hope they’ll change one day. It’s easier to stay and have an idea of the outcome rather than leave and not know what the future holds.

I stuck around for two summers hoping flowers would blossom; instead, they wilted under my watch, and I still refused to believe it. I refused to accept the feelings I had during those months, but I’m learning that you must learn to accept your feelings and allow yourself to fully feel them until they eventually lose their power over you.

I don’t know what you’re experiencing right now in your life, but if you feel rejected, hurt, or unloved, instead of allowing it to consume your life, I hope you make the decision to wake up and get out of the situation you’ve been clinging on to for so long.

The right decision often hurts us the most, but it’s also the most liberating.

This is how I’m setting myself free, from all the pain, the rejection, and the little bubble of hurt. I’m choosing to let it go, to move forward, not wonder why, how, or when, not think about what I could have done or should have done.

I don’t know what’s next, I don’t know if I’ll ever talk to him again but I do know I’m capable of choosing what I do and how I feel from this day forward. I refuse to be the girl who gets pitied, I refuse to let this hinder me from getting out of bed in the morning and becoming the person I want to become.

I could be pissed off at him right now and argue that if he couldn’t be a good father to me what makes him think he would be a good father to his new baby girl?

But what good would that do for anybody? I’m not seeking his validation to get through this. I’m doing my own processing to get through this.

My processing looks like taking a walk by the beach and feeling the sun on my face. A constant reminder that I got to this place without his help or guidance.

It’s reading books and writing, because that’s what grounds me and shows me I am my own person who is slowly but surely creating a life for myself without the help of a father.

It’s loving the people around me, like my sweet mother who took on both parental roles and raised me to be independent and fearless.

It’s being content about the person I chose to spend my life with, because I know he’s nothing like my father and he will always treat me right.

I’m grieving the loss of someone I thought I might see again after 17 years of not knowing. I never truly allowed myself to experience the emotions he caused me to feel, I figured, he’d one day fix it.

But I don’t need a savior, I never did before, and I don’t need one now.

I’m acknowledging the loss, and I know it might hurt for a little while, but grief often comes in waves and when you learn to stop resisting it, eventually it passes.