I never understood why my father left. I never understood why I was not allowed to ask questions about hi to anyone in my family. At some point, the narrative changed. My mother would tell me that he loved me more than he loved anyone else in the world, but in his own way. I spent my entire life wishing for my father to be present. Sure, I grew up in a family that loved me, but something was missing... my dad. The ever-present wound that oozed into every aspect of my life: Security. Self-esteem. Abandonment. Anger. Searching for love in all the wrong people. Sabotage. Could the little girl inside of me, who spent her life chasing after love to fill the void in her heart that her dad left, have had it all wrong? It was time to release the pain and anger. It was time to accept the truth. It was time to fill that void with the piece that fit perfectly. Quite frankly, it was time to heal.
