Dear Biological Father to My Child:
You vowed
to eat me. You challenged me to bring my army, and I did, but I expected you to
bring your pack, small as it is. You brought no one and stood alone, the true
mark of a sickly wolf cub, unlike the “wolf” you call yourself. I walked into
the room of battle fully prepared and equipped to handle any questions lobbed
at me by the Judge, by you, or by anyone else for that matter. And I didn’t
need any of it. I was so shocked, I forgot to ask the Judge to order you to pay
back the money you stole from my daughter’s savings account.
Of course,
you’ll say you didn’t steal it, and you’ll have some excuse, some story to tell
me about what that account is “really for,” as if you think I would have
forgotten. But that gives you too much credit for forethought, I’ve come to
realize. So I suppose I should take a step back and go through my perspective
in its completion.
I didn’t
like you when I met you, but I saw some kind of goodness in you that I allowed
to take root, and I chose to believe in you with my whole heart. Your coworkers
and your NCOs told me that you couldn’t do anything right, that you broke
everything you touched, that you were incompetent and refused to ask questions
about how to do the job right. When I mentioned these things to you, your
response was that you had gone through your career development courses faster
than anybody else and that you had memorized them completely because you read
each one more than once. I believed you; what reason had I not to do? I
defended you against your coworkers and I talked to your NCOs on your behalf, urging
them to get your paperwork in order, but they weren’t the ones failing on some
front. I know this because you weren’t the only Airman I knew in your shop. You
were neither the first nor the last newbie I met in your shop and I knew a
little bit about how things ran there.
And so,
when the base mental health clinic gave your diagnosis and started your
medication, I held my faith in you and I kept my belief. I decided that your
lack of performance was due to the diagnosis and I kept talking to you. But you
didn’t talk to me. You opened your mouth and words came out; you spoke, but you
did not communicate.
And you
burnt bacon. Who burns bacon? I tell my friends this story to this day and
every single time, the reaction is complete shock and horror. Who burns bacon?! Every time. But that
wasn’t the real problem, after all; communication was.
Some of
your favourite things to say were bad things about your family, especially
after we visited them for some holidays. We went home, and you held a grudge against
everyone, especially your mother. Multiple times, over the course of years, I
encouraged you to forgive your mother and re-establish contact. You refused,
every time. But then you would suggest we separate; you said I should take our
daughter and stay with my grandparents for a while; you suggested I go stay
with my grandparents for a while on my own; you suggested that you find a hotel
and stay in one alone for a couple of weeks. I always said that was not the
solution; that we needed to work together. But you never wanted to work
together with me, and over the last two years of our marriage, you said no less
than three times to me: “If you just want to divorce me, get it over with.” The
first two times, I said I never wanted that. The third time, I finally agreed that
separation may be best for both of us.
I talked to
many people over the course of our marriage. I watched you deliberately act against
my desires as a wife and as a mother. I told you how I wanted things to be and
you failed to perform. The same thing happened when we were together in the
house my grandparents own. My friends told me that what you did was deliberate,
that you were an asshole. They were right on one count and wrong on the other.
You are an
asshole. But I do not think everything you do is deliberate. You posted online
that you were prepared for trial. You acted really tough and you really made it
out like I’m some villain and you’re a poor, wounded animal who has been kicked
while he’s been down. You called me vindictive and spiteful. You claimed I was
hateful against you, and when I was angry and hurt, I was quite hateful. I was
quite spiteful. But I have not once been vindictive, and I have not once said a
single untrue thing about you or your behaviour.
When we
were in the courthouse, you said you didn’t know who I am. It struck me strongly
as the truest statement you had made in a whole five years. You certainly lied
when you told me you’ve died. You certainly lied when you said I was your
soulmate, that you had been searching the cosmos for my energy. You are a liar
of pathological tendencies, sperm donor, and I am here to tell you what I see.
I already know that if you read this, you won’t make a change, because you don’t
really know what you’re doing. You demonstrated that in the room of battle.
“I am
prepared,” your status read. But when the Judge addressed you, you stuttered
and stumbled over your words. You outright stated you did not know what your
requests were. You vindictively demanded that I pay bills that you chose to
take care of on your own volition. You cannot have realized how all of your actions
leading up to that day were working against you, but I think your mother noticed
it since she didn’t come to your defence. Or did you tell her to stay home?
Regardless, I was better prepared. My paperwork was all together and my
requests were simple. And the Judge ruled in my favour more completely than I
had dared to hope.
I
overestimated you the way you have underestimated me for ages. I had thought,
perhaps, you walked in thinking you would razzle dazzle me, throw me for a loop
and win your way with sheer presence. But I realize now that gives you far too
much credit, because you are a sick, sick man. I do not believe your initial
diagnosis from the base mental health clinic was complete. If you do have that personality
disorder, then I think you have a second or even third personality disorder, as
well, among them Narcissistic Personality Disorder. A tall claim, perhaps, but
characterized and standing out from regular narcissistic traits by a Narcissist’s
absolute refusal to communicate.
I expected
you to have at least one witness. I expected you to come in with a residential
plan requesting that our daughter live with you for part of the year, but
rather than doing something so thoughtful
and likely to succeed, you instead
went in with a vindictive residential plan that asked the Judge to uproot the
child from her life and withhold her from me for all but two weeks a year. I
was shocked; how could you be so stupid? I expected you to have your paperwork
together better. I thought you would demand that I pay for the World Books, and
I thought you would have a better-organized case to plead wherein you would
claim that I am abusive and horrible. But you didn’t. The Judge didn’t want to
see your Facebook evidence and I didn’t offer mine, because social media was
irrelevant to this case—except for the part where you threatened me in a status
and your mother joined in.
It’s
adorable that your mother thinks I should be committed, because really, the one
who should be committed and monitored closely is you. You claim to love your
daughter, but you don’t show it.
You send a
message once or twice a week to ask “how she’s doing.” I have shared with you
her school schedule and yet you send these messages while she is at school and
you never ask any deeper questions. You show no interest in her development, in
school or at home, and you show no interest whatsoever in my ability to care
for her. I wouldn’t expect you to care about me at all, but I am the mother of
your child and as such I deserve a minimal amount of consideration since I am
the custodial parent and I have full control over her development—development that
has accelerated significantly and is going so well, I wonder how I managed to
let you hold us back for so long.
I would
give you a list of questions you should
ask about your child, but they’re really common sense for fathers who want to
be dads to their kids, a role you have repeatedly demonstrated a lack of
interest in filling. I will not spoon-feed common sense to you when you have
previously indicated a lack of ability to digest it.
I look
forward to this summer break, to see if you follow the court’s order for visitations.
I look forward to our weekly video calls, because my daughter doesn’t want to
hear you talk and she doesn’t want to see your bullshit. She doesn’t care what
you’re doing, she just likes that she can boss you around and do what she wants
when you’re around. This is demonstrated by our video calls lasting less than
two minutes every time. This happens at home and in public, as I have tested
multiple times now.
When I was
overwhelmed with emotion upon our separation, I thought perhaps I would always
hold love for you. I can see now that such is not the case.
Goodbye.
