If you ask me, being a father to a daughter must be one of the most incredible experiences a man can have. Even though I’m not a father myself, I often think about what it would mean, to be a daughter’s first hero, her safe place, and the example of love she looks up to. I imagine being a father is about showing up, not just physically, but really being there for her, in those small everyday moments that matter most.
It’s about offering love, not just through words but through actions, those warm hugs, the kind smiles, being there when she needs comfort. A father should be someone she can rely on to teach her about life, showing her what it means to be honest, strong, and caring. He should be attentive, always thinking about how his words and actions impact her future, and willing to show vulnerability too, because that’s part of being human.
But the reality is, not every father lives up to those expectations. My friend Roxanne, the eldest daughter in her family, has a different story, a story filled with complex emotions, love, and pain. In her own words, this is the story of her relationship with her dad, and the father she needed but never really had.
“It doesn’t matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was.”
I wish I could remember my dad as the hero of our family, the strong pillar that held us together. I wish I could remember him as the one who shaped me into the woman I am today. But those are just wishes. If he were to pass away tomorrow, God forbid, I’d struggle to find many positive things to say about him. Believe me, I love my dad, and what you’re about to read is the story of our complicated relationship. This is how I feel about him.
My name is Roxanne, and I live with my mom and younger sister, Glory. Years ago, we used to live with my dad too, but he left, and I still don’t know where he lives. My dad has two beautiful daughters, me and my little sister. I’m not sure what to say about the relationship between my parents. Maybe they fell in love and decided to get married and start a family. But if you asked me, I never really saw or felt that love from my dad towards my mom. But this isn’t a story about their love life. This is a story about me and my dad.
A Distant Father
I didn’t enjoy much affection from my dad. There was no close connection between us. He used to leave for work early in the morning, around 5 AM, when I was still asleep, and return around 1 AM in the middle of the night, when I was also asleep. So it was hard to see him, even though we lived in the same house. Sometimes, we wouldn’t speak to each other for months. As a child, I didn’t get much close supervision from my dad, especially regarding my academics. He didn’t pay much attention to my schoolwork. He was always working day and night, but he was always saying he was broke whenever I needed money or my mom needed money.
I can say he was an irresponsible father. He was always complaining about his problems and his work, but he couldn’t give us the attention we needed. Not just attention, he wasn’t fulfilling his responsibilities as a father. Every time I tried to talk to him about something, it felt like I was burdening him.
My dad wasn’t my friend. If I had something troubling, I couldn’t imagine going to him for help. I just couldn’t. He wasn’t my friend at all. I tried several times to talk to him, but he always said he didn’t have time. He might say he loved us and cared for us, but his actions showed nothing. He was all talk and no action.
He always pushed me away. If I had something I wanted to talk about, he wouldn’t give me a chance. There was one incident I hate to remember. I was almost raped in high school. This incident haunted me for months. I was angry at myself, hurt, scared, and depressed. The worst part was, I couldn’t share it with either my dad or my mom. To this day, nobody knows. I really wanted to tell my dad what I went through, but I couldn’t. I knew he would dismiss my emotions and feelings. It was really difficult for me to open up to him.
A father needs to know what’s going on with his kids, not just his daughters. Check in with them, talk to them, understand what they’re going through. This means a lot to a child. A child needs affection, love, and safety. We know in today’s world, there are a lot of bad things happening, and children are being abused by people they trust, like teachers or relatives. But how can you expect your child to tell you about this if there’s no connection between you two? How can you expect a child to talk to you if you don’t give her a chance? How can you expect her to share her struggles with you if you don’t care? You’re not even her safe place. We need to change. As fathers, mothers, we all need to change and start paying close attention to our children.
It took me months to heal from the attempted rape incident. Remember, I couldn’t share it with my dad or my mom. My heart was filled with vengeance, and I was depressed a lot. One thing that saved me was the church. I remember going to a church seminar one day, and the evangelist asked if anyone needed help or prayers. I went forward and started crying. The evangelist came to me and said she saw I was hiding something, that I had pain inside. And yes, I had a lot of pain inside. She prayed for me and asked me to come to her office and share my struggles with her. At least I had someone who cared. The evangelist listened to me, I told her what happened and that I couldn’t share it with my dad because I knew he wouldn’t listen. I cried a lot, and she gave me Bible scriptures and words of encouragement. After a few weeks, I was back to normal. That pastor/evangelist saved me, saved my pain through Christ’s words, and saved my vengeance through God.
A Father I Needed
I needed a father who could be a family man, easy to talk to. I needed a father who could listen to my feelings and understand what I was going through. I needed a father who could be like a teacher to me, teaching me how life should be, what to do and what not to do. I needed a father who could protect me and safeguard our family. I needed a father who could truly love my mom. I needed a father who could listen to my needs, not necessarily give me everything, but at least listen to what I had to say. I needed a father who wouldn’t complain about anything when I was sharing my problems. I needed a father who could take time to talk and have fun with his family, his daughters, and his wife. But my dad was none of that. I really love my dad, but he was none of that. None.
I can’t sit with my dad for a long time, maybe 30 minutes or more, and be comfortable because we have nothing to talk about. The moment I would start talking about what’s going on with me, he would dismiss me. I’m not comfortable being around my dad. I love him, but I’m not comfortable at all being around him for a long time.
Sometimes I would get sick and tell my dad about it, but he would just dismiss it and ignore it. I would have to tell him over and over again before he would take any action because he cared less about his daughters. He couldn’t take us to the hospital or participate in anything important in our lives, like graduations, family ceremonies, or holidays. He couldn’t take time to be with his family at all.
I really love my dad, and it hurts me a lot. Back then, even though he was an irresponsible father, at least we were living in the same house. Nowadays, he’s left home. I don’t know where he’s living, and I don’t know much about his whereabouts. If I want to talk to him, I have to call several times or maybe visit his office. But whenever I ask him where he’s living, he doesn’t want to share that information with us at all.
I ask myself, what if something bad happens to my dad? What if he gets robbed or killed or anything bad happens to him? How will we know? We don’t know where he’s living. We don’t know anything. If anything bad happens to him, there’s nothing we can do. We probably won’t know for a long time. I wish one day God could change my dad and be a regular family man. I really want a connection with my dad. I feel so hurt living like this.
Finding Strength
Back then, when I was just a kid, I used to ask God why he gave me this kind of father. I know, I was wrong. Despite all the bad things about my dad, he is still my father. This kind of father is what made me the way I am. Now I am a strong woman because of my dad. I can take care of myself because I know nobody will if I don’t. But also, apart from the bad things about my dad, he also taught me how to have wisdom and how to think before speaking.
You know, I’m a girl, and my mom is my best friend. Most of the time when my mom and dad argue, my mom speaks badly about my dad, and that fills me with hatred. I used to hate my dad because of that. But thank God, right now I understand. I don’t have to hate my dad. It is who he is. I can’t change anything. I can’t change my dad. I just thank God for his life.
A Family Divided
My mom and dad don’t have any kind of good relationship at all. They speak badly about each other, and as the firstborn, I get really confused. I can’t pick sides. I love both my parents, but they don’t love each other at all, and both of them want me to pick sides, but I can’t. They are both my parents, and I love them both despite everything that happened.
My mom is also not perfect, and both of them, my mom and dad, don’t want to agree on anything. They don’t want to admit.
Despite the challenges and pain she’s faced, Roxanne has found strength and resilience. She has learned to accept her father for who he is, understanding that his actions, while hurtful, have shaped her into the strong woman she is today. While she may never have the father-daughter bond she desires, she has found solace in her faith, her friendships, and her own determination. Roxanne’s story is a testament to the human spirit’s ability to overcome adversity and find hope even in the darkest of times.
