When I was a younger, both childhood and young adulthood, I used to wonder what was wrong with me. For some reason, I was more fixated on the rejection of my father than I was of that of my mother. I had these big old dreams of being "daddy's little girl" and well what I got instead, was completely the opposite. Even a child that lives through nightmares still loves the person that created them for her.
It took me a very very long time for me to realize, it wasn't me. There wasn't a damned thing wrong with me. It wasn't that I was too ugly. It wasn't that I was too fat. It wasn't that I was too loud, or too quiet. There was not one single thing wrong with me to create that rejection.
When my son was little, I didn't want him to experience the hurt of not being wanted by his father, so I stepped in. I would tell him wonderful stories of how much his daddy loved and wanted him. When he was little, I was able to write brief notes and cards and mail them to him on his father's behalf. Oh man, did this have the complete opposite effect of what I wanted! Yes, he felt loved and wanted by his daddy, but he had glorified the man in his mind! Now, I was the horrible, evil woman that was keep him from his father.
Let me tell you, when a child is truly angry, they can do a lot of damage both to themselves and those around them. It took a lot of work, and a ton of patience for him to realize one thing. It wasn't him and it wasn't me. Since then, he's been a pretty normal teenage child. He made the realization a lot sooner than I did.
After that situation, I decided not to step in between father and child at all. The father will either be there, or he won't be there. But I would not do anything on my end to try to persuade him either way. It was my job to just love the child as much as I possibly could so that they'd wind up with a good healthy sense of self worth.
And I thought I was doing pretty decently at it too. Until one day, a couple of weeks before school let out, that I get the call from my daughter's school counselor. This call tends to scare the crap out of any parent that receives it. And once you get that call you know, deep down, enough is enough! Now we can tell this child as much as we want that it isn't her, her father can tell her as much as he wants that it isn't her. She's just not going to believe it until she sees it for herself.
For me, it took a visit with my own father to start that process. For my son, it took a visit with his to start that process. The situation with my daughter is a bit different. She can't go to his place for a visit without her being placed in an emotionally harmful situation. She would see a lot of things that she just doesn't see here, like anger, yelling, hatred, rage, etc. Hell, his house isn't emotionally healthy for him let alone for children!
Honey and I talked for a while on how to handle this situation, and we brought in her other daddy to talk about it too. (Both my husband, and her bio-dad are her daddies.) One weekend out of each month, if all goes according to plan, her first daddy, bio-dad, will be coming out here to spend the weekend with us. This way, she can get that time with him she needs, and possibly develop the relationship with him that she wants. Or, what is more likely, she'll realize it has not one single thing to do with her.
That's our odd family experiment. It's pretty unconventional, yes, but it's the closest thing to shared custody that we can do and still keep her safe. We envision a few possiblities coming from this. Either she'll get the type of relationship she wants, or she won't. But either way, it is our hope that she'll wind up being more emotionally healthy from it.
I personally wish that I could take a huge clue-by-four to every single absent father's head. I don't know what it is about absentee fathers, but for some reason, it's out of sight = out of mind. And that is so terribly hurtful to the children. They wind up with questions and when those questions aren't answered, they often turn it in on themselves.
It's like I tell Honey all the time, one day, they're going to have questions and you have to be there to answer them openly and honestly. One day, they're going to want to know 'why'. It is their right to know why.
What's pretty sad though, is that often times, these men are fantastic fathers - they just don't give the absent children a chance to see that.
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