A different kind of a Father's Day...

Today is Father's Day. I've been reading a lot of people's posts about how great their father was, is and always will be and I'm super happy for them. Yet, I don't know how to feel.

I should be happy that I have a step-father who cares about me and who treats me like his own daughter and in a way I am but I cannot help but think about my father at this point.

When I was young, my father was my hero. He meant the world and beyond to me. I was his little princess and he did everything he could to take care of me while my mother was getting some treatments for her diabetes in Europe.

When I was 2 or 3, I sustained a serious injury that led to a 3rd degree burn on my left leg. There was nobody to look after me and I was a snarky little one so I went into the kitchen and put my leg in some hot oil that just came off the stovetop that was left on the floor. {Sorry for the gory deets.} I don't remember any of it, thankfully but right after my incident, my maternal grandfather lost his life. My family called my mother and she was on the first flight back home. After my grandpa's funeral, my mother came to find an injured daughter. She decided right there and then, that my father wasn't able to take care of me and she left me with my aunt and my grandmother.

After that, I only saw my father on Fridays. In Djibouti, our weekends was only on Fridays. So every Friday, he used to pick me up and we went to go get ice creams and just hang out. Sometimes, he dropped by on weekdays but Fridays was usually our days. And that was our deal when my mother was abroad and she was abroad ALOT. When she was home, I had a regular lifestyle. I slept in my own bed and had my own little dolls. And that was my life until I was about 9.

When I was 9, my parents decided AT FIRST, to move out to Canada in order to rekindle their marriage. My mother and I went before my dad since he had to sell our home and everything else. After a year passed my father never showed up. He preferred to stay back home with his family and he chose to lead a different lifestyle. He chose to become polygamous. So my mother divorced him.

To say that I was hurt by all of this is the least I can come up with. I was destroyed; I was pained. I was so resentful. I was angry. I was so angry at my mother for years instead of being angry at him. I didn't talk to him for years. For 8 years, I only heard of him when his father died {RIP} and on 2 birthdays; if you can even count them as birthdays. I'm born in december and he would call me in April. I'd turn 20 and he thought I was turning 16.

I kinda reconnected with him when I went back to Djibouti in 2006; but he had already spewed his venom. He told his side of the family that he has been taking care of me financially even though he didn't send me one dime in 8 years. To think he's been fooling his WHOLE family hurt me because they thought I was an ungrateful child who didn't care to come visit her dad or his family. I didn't care that he lied to them; I just cared that he lied about me. That's when I realised something. My dad was a complete stranger to me. At that same time, my mom FINALLY:) got remarried to this wonderful man that became my step-father.

To this day, my dad and I talk rarely. We spend 2 years not talking and then he'll pop back for a few months and try to control my life because he thinks he's intitled to it then he'll walk from my life again. On this father's day, I think about what my dad has taught me?

He didn't teach me how to ride a bike; I don't know how to ride a bike. He didn't teach me how to read; he didn't teach me right from wrong; he didn't teach me how to drive. He didn't teach me about boys. He didn't teach me how to love properly. He didn't teach me that family is essential and should be always cherished. All I know and mostly who I am, my mother taught me to the best of her abilities. So this father's day, I am not thinking about my birth father. I want to celebrate my mother and my step-dad.

My step-dad who, in a matter of a couple of years, managed to give me all the love and affection I've ever wanted when it was so easy to not recognize me as his daughter. He could've easily hated me and didn't want to care about me but he chose not to. It's stellar how this ONE man managed to bring bliss and happiness to my mother and I; my mother and I were on shaky grounds before he came in and made us a real family.

Sure he didn't hold my hand when I was scared; he didn't teach me how to read or to ride a bike; but what he taught me is worth much more than everything my birth father ever did for me. He taught me how to trust in men; that all men are not dogs who are out to hurt us. He taught me that true love exists even at 50 years old; he taught me that some people care. He taught me that family means more than wealth; he taught me that and so much more.

If there is one thing I am grateful for on this Father's Day, is to have him in my life. To know that no matter what, he'll always be there for me and he'll love me unconditionally. For years, I asked myself why did God put me and my mother through that hell; now I'm sure that in the end, my step-dad was our silver lining. And I love him so much for that.

"A father is not the one who made you; he is the one who teaches you how to be YOU."