Clarissa Wallace

Clarissa Wallace

  • Clarissa Wallace
    Published 5 months ago
    The Love of a Daughter

    The Love of a Daughter

    When I was younger, my mom was a single mom for a long time. My biological father was (is?) a drug addict, and I haven't seen him since I was 12. I was adopted by my sister's dad and years later I was told how my biological father never showed up to court to fight for his custodial rights. I didn't really deal with the feelings of abandonment that left me with, and as I do with all my other negative emotions, I suppressed them. I pretended like they didn't exist. It wasn't until I was pregnant with my son and working at a rehabilitation facility that it started eating at me. Why didn't he want to get better for me? I loved my baby so much I would never even think of leaving him, and yet my father chose drugs over me. He didn't try to get better for me, he didn't fight, and above all he didn't want me. I think this is part of the reason I appreciated my dad (adoptive) so much. No one is perfect, but at least he was around. At least he tried. Which was much more than I can say for my biological father. Now that I have my son I realize how hard it must've been for my mom. She had not one but three kids to take care of and she made it happen. My mom worked a lot when I was growing up, and as a child I didn't understand why she wasn't around much. Now I know that she was trying to make ends meet.