Fuck you, Father’s Day

The men who failed me, the ones who hurt me, and the few who finally showed up.

Father’s Day is a really fucked-up day for me.

My biological dad once told me he wouldn’t wish hell on his worst enemy, and then said I was going there. He’s rejected me and my children because they “don’t edify God.” He’s seen them maybe three times in their whole lives. I don’t even know if he’s dead or alive, and honestly, I’m not sure I care.

The biological father of my children raped and abused me. He’s seen his kids once in four years. He doesn’t call, doesn’t check in, doesn’t send a dime. No birthdays. No Christmases. No support. His exact words were: “I don’t give a fuck about the kids.”

And I don’t lie to my kids about who he is. I won’t gaslight them into thinking that bare minimum or total absence is love. I tell them the truth: one visit in four years doesn’t make someone a dad. No child support, no emotional presence, no effort? That’s not a father, that’s a sperm donor. Period. And the stolen Facebook photos he uses from my life to look like a “dad”? That’s just a pathetic facade. I don’t tell them to keep hoping. I won’t set them up for that kind of heartbreak. Fuck that. I call it what it is.

And then there was the cult elder I lived with from 18 to 19. I called him “Dad.” He walked me down the aisle. And every single day, he made me feel broken. I was never enough. Always “in trouble.” Always needing to be “fixed.” He didn’t guide me, he demolished me.

Men have let me down in ways I can’t fully explain. They took parts of me and left nothing but scraps. I was used, silenced, manipulated, broken. Again and again.

I don’t respect many men. I hate most of them. And I don’t feel guilty saying that.

But then, a man who stepped up without being asked. Who chose to love me and my five kids like we were his own. Who treats them like real grandkids, not burdens. Who shows up. Every time. Thank you. You’re the dad I didn’t know was possible. Happy Stepped-Up Father’s Day. We love you.

And to Rod Maldaner, my safe place, my steady love, the first man who’s ever held space for me without breaking me, thank you. Real men do exist. You're living proof. ❤️