My Three "Fathers"

I know what you're thinking. Claiming to have 3 dads seems kinda fake. Just a quick clarification before I get into the messy bits: none of them are gay, one was my biological father who I've never known, one was my sister's dad I grew up with until I was 6, and the final one is my current legal father. I only count one as my dad, and that's the last one.

The easiest way to start this is chronologically. The times when I learned about or experienced things from each one are very out of order from when those things actually happened. So we'll start with my biological father, who I usually refer to as my sperm-donor. He doesn't deserve to have the word father associated with him.

I don't exactly know the full story and I probably never will, but I know enough to hate the dude. My mom was friends with him while she was in the army. She got drunk one night and was raped by him. That is how I exist. That's bad enough on its own, but there's one more thing. She realized she was pregnant and reached out to him. She was in a relationship with my sister's dad at the time but asked if the sperm-donor would want to be in my life and said that they could work something out if that were the case. He flat out refused.

Until recently, I didn't think this was a traumatic experience. Probably about a week ago, I started thinking about it and completely broke down. I don't understand how he could refuse to be part of a family then but now has a family with 3 kids. I genuinely don't understand how people can do absolutely terrible things to others and move on with their lives like nothing happened. It's not even the fact that he wants nothing to do with me; honestly, I don't care about that. I never want to meet him. It's just the fact that he hurt my mother and never had any repercussions. It's the fact that he could just walk out and doesn't seem to care in the slightest that he hurt someone.

Now on to my sister's dad, the first person to really hurt me. For the sake of protecting his identity, I'll simply refer to him as Dad 1 because he was the first father figure in my life.

Up until I was 6, he seemed like a pretty great guy. He always treated me like I was his biological daughter. I didn't even know I wasn't for another few years. When I was 6, my family decided to move to a small town in Missouri. Mom, around that time, discovered that Dad 1 had been cheating on her. Cue years of manipulation and telling her she imagined it all while leaving her with a house she can't afford and two kids. I didn't know that had happened until years later when mom finally started opening up to me about it. I can't even remember if I noticed he was gone or not at that time (there's a huge gap in my memory). Because I don't remember much about it, that didn't really affect me.

After the divorce, mom had full custody of my sister and me, but Dad 1 retained visitation rights centered around holidays. At first, he kept to that like he was supposed to. But slowly, he started leaving me out of things which led to complete abandonment by the time I was 9. All I knew at the time was that he just wanted my sister to go and every time after that I wasn't allowed to go with her. Again, I didn't fully realize what was happening. How could I? I was 9 and my mom did her absolute best to shelter me from it all. But then he decided to call me.

I have a lot of gaps in my memory from the time I was 6 until around the time I was 11, but this call I remember pretty clearly, at least on the emotional side. He'd apparently heard something recommending that telling a child you're not their father is easiest to do when they're young. I completely disagree. I guess it's one thing if you sit them down in person and talk through it together, but he just called me. As far as I can remember, there was no small talk. Just an immediate "I'm not your dad."

Naturally, I was furious. I can guarantee that I've never been angrier in my life than in those moments. Just after it happened, all I felt was anger. But as days turned into weeks turned into months, the anger gave way to a deep, dark depression. I just remember constantly wondering why, not being able to sleep, never really wanting to do anything, and never saying a word about how I felt. I was suicidal at the age of 9. I had very clear thoughts of "I want out," although I wasn't entirely sure what I wanted out of. I just knew I wanted it all to stop.

I also started self-harming around this time. I just had no idea how to cope with things (honestly I still don't). Part of me blames mom for not getting me into therapy or anything like that much sooner than she did. I needed help then, and I don't know if I would be struggling so much if she had. I could have processed the emotions then instead of burying them and hoping those feelings would eventually go away.

I could keep ranting for hours about Dad 1, but I'll save that for another time.

My current dad, who I will refer to as Dad 2, is by far the best one. He's nowhere near perfect but he's had a huge, mostly positive impact on my life. He's taught me so much - from riding a bike to the intricacies of sarcasm. He's always proud of me for achieving so much more than he thinks he has. He's usually supportive of me, even if he doesn't always show it. I'm really grateful to have had one good father figure in my life.

Alongside the overall good he's done for me, I also have to mention some of the bad. Unfortunately, the bad parts are a lot more surface-level than everything else. He's a very abrasive person, and by that I mean he's very opinionated and loud about it. I disagree with many of those opinions so, as a person who hates confrontation, I learned to bite my tongue. He's also extremely stubborn, to a level I could never dream of achieving. And he doesn't always show his worry or care in the best ways. For example, he would very rarely let me spend my own money out of fear that I wouldn't have anything for college. But for the most part, he's a pretty great dad.

So, to quickly sum up the three fathers situation: one was my biological father, but more importantly a bad person; one abandoned me when I was 9 and spent years torturing my mother; and the final dad is by far the best.