Idk who My Dad Is
Funny story , I don’t actually know who my father is. My mom named me after a man who she thought Was My father. She mixed his name and hers together to make my name. DNA tests determined, he was NOT the father. Nevertheless I have a cool name and so it stayed. It took a while for me to get the real story. My mom initially thought this guy was dead for years and it turned out he had just moved away. Although I liked it better when I thought he was dead because when I seen a picture of the man (that’s NOT my daddy) I was like yikes, my daddy look like a country pimp lol . So I’m glad that didn’t work out . So then, I had a few conversations with my mom and she just didn’t know. It was hard and emotional for her and I hated that feeling. And honestly I don’t blame her and I’ve never been mad about it. She was going through a lot at the time . If you seen my story about how I was born full of drugs then you know that time of her life wasn’t the best. Idk what I’d do if I had been in her shoes so that’s not for me to judge, She’s been married my whole life to my step dad who I’ve thought was amazing . I didn’t have a close relationship with him honestly until the year before my mom passed. We had started to really get to know each other more. I was raised by my aunt and uncle and so my uncle was the only “father figure” I had any example of , and unfortunately that wasn’t the best. Did I wish I knew my dad? Yes. Did I search for my dad ? YES. But I came up short every time. I yearned for a father daughter relationship that I was never able to get. I think it definitely affected how I seen men and how I did relationships because there was just a lot I didn’t know. It took me having both of my kids and watching my husband be a father for me to start the process of acceptance and healing. I can reminder praying and getting this overwhelming feeling of comfort . It felt like God was there waiting for me. Like he was saying “come to ME & I can do what you need” and I realized how God is just better than any dad I could’ve ever gotten, he loves me more than they could’ve ever loved me and he’s always been here waiting for that relationship with me. To do more than I could ever imagine. It took a while, I was treating God with caution, as if he had the ability to abandon me or hurt me. At this point in my life I’m more grateful than anything. My daughters get to have what I never had on earth AND a close relationship with God as well. I love watching them in their relationship just being a daddy’s girl. & as Great as I am, sometimes when an older man walks by , that fits a description of what I know my dad might look like , I can’t help but to wonder what if.
But what I do know , is that he must’ve been handsome to mix together and make a cute little chocolate girl like me! 😂💕
#embracevulnerability #Lemon8Diary #lemon8creators #mytestimony #testimony #journaling #shareyourthoughts #paternity #unaesthetic #daddy
It's such a deeply personal question, isn't it? “Who's my hero, my mum, my dad?” For many of us, the answer isn't straightforward, especially when one parent's presence is a question mark. I've often thought about this, wondering what a 'dad' truly represents, and how that void impacts our identity. We're often taught that parents are our first heroes, but what happens when that role isn't clearly defined or is entirely absent? My journey taught me that a hero isn't always the person you expect, or even the person biologically linked to you. While I yearned for that traditional father-daughter bond, I learned to see heroism in different forms. My stepdad, though our relationship deepened later, showed me consistent love and care. My uncle, despite his imperfections, was the only male figure I had an example of. These experiences, both good and bad, shape our understanding of what it means to be supported and loved, even if it's not the fairy tale we imagined. And then there's mom. My mom, despite her own struggles, is undeniably a hero in her own right. She faced immense challenges, but she carried me, named me, and loved me. Even when she couldn't give me all the answers about my biological father, her resilience and the effort she made, even amidst her own pain, showed a different kind of strength. Sometimes, our mothers are our heroes not because they're perfect, but because they keep going, keep loving, and keep trying, even when life is incredibly tough. As I mentioned, my ultimate realization was that the greatest 'Dad' and the truest hero I could ever have was God. It might sound cliché, but finding that overwhelming feeling of comfort, knowing I was deeply loved and seen, was a game-changer. He became the one who would never abandon me, who would always be there to fill the spaces where earthly relationships fell short. It allowed me to let go of the 'what ifs' – like wondering about the man who 'must've been handsome tho' to make me – and embrace the certainty of unconditional love. So, if you're out there asking, 'Who's my hero?', take a moment to reflect. Sometimes, our heroes are the people who step up when they don't have to, the family members who offer unwavering support, or even ourselves, for navigating such complex feelings. And for me, finding peace in a divine connection helped redefine what a 'hero' truly means. It’s about finding love, acceptance, and strength wherever you can, and realizing you're never truly alone in your journey.
I understand you said DNA determined he was not your father but did you use DNA to look for your father? My husband always knew the person being passed off as his father wasn’t. We did Ancestry.Com and found out who his father was by chance and blessings. Unfortunately he died in 2019& we only found out last year.