As a Child, I Was Curious About My Father’s Identity – Raised in Care, His Absence Became My ‘Normal…

As a child, I was always curious about who my father was. I grew up in a boarding school, and over time, his absence just became the norm for me. When I was fourteen, I met the father of my children, and at the time, I didnt feel the need to search for my own father. Life simply went on.

After my relationship ended, it was thenalmost without tryingthat fate seemed to lead me to him. I run my own business, and one afternoon, a client came in. We struck up a conversation, it flowed naturally, and at some point I shared that I had never met my father. He offered to help, and together we managed to find him in a small village where hed lived his whole life.

When I finally met him, I felt a wave of emotion I can hardly put into wordsan overwhelming happiness. I began making plans with himtrips, long chats, thoughtful gestures. I bought him clothes, spoiled him, we travelled together and I paid for everything, not caring whether he had money or not. I saw he was neglected, sad, alone, and I felt I needed to make up for all the lost years.

He would tell me he was lonely, that he had children in the village, but they wouldnt allow him to have a partner; they believed that any woman who came near him was only after his money. I asked him to introduce me to the woman he claimed loved him, and he agreed. I met hera modest, hardworking woman who looked after him. Her actions showed she was kind. But my fathers children didnt want her around. They insulted her, involved the police, and treated her terribly every chance they had.

When I asked her why they acted that way, she confided in me that my father had houses, land, and a good sum tucked away in the bank, and his children didnt want anyone getting close in case they lost something.

Thats when the whispers started. People began to say Id surfaced just to take everything from him. I didnt even share his surname at the time. He insisted I take it. I resisted, not wanting to invite trouble, but he said it was his wish, so in the end, I accepted. That only made things worsethe criticism increased, and family disputes became open.

My bond with my fathers partner grew even stronger. I suggested they get married in secret, and they did just that. The children were furiousat both of us. I told them my father had every right to be happy. Their marriage had its ups and downs, but one day, after theyd wed, I invited them on a trip. Normally, I travelled just with my father. On this trip, his wife asked how much I would be contributing for the expenses. I told her, nothingthat when I travelled with him, I always paid for everything.

Then she told me something that really shook me: things werent as Id assumed. My father had always been well off, and thats why his children controlled him. They wouldnt let him spend on himself, on clothes or simple pleasures. Id thought he was struggling, since he lived in a half-finished house and seemed deprived, but in reality, his money was just managed by others.

From then on, I encouraged him to enjoy the fruits of his own labour. But he told me his children wouldnt allow it. After his marriage, his wife began urging him to contribute to the household, to food, to daily living. Whenever she asked, he would explode. Eventually, hed give, but only after a big argument. She told me everything, and to me it all seemed perfectly reasonable.

One day, while we were together, his wife asked him to pay for lunch for her father. He reacted terriblytold her to pay herself, claimed it was the same story every day, and started an argument. I stood up for her. I asked him whether hed be content if my own husband refused food to his father-in-law. I told him it wasnt fair to treat the woman who cared for him, cooked, did his laundry, and stayed by his side that way. He replied that he was fed up with being asked to fork out for the house.

Thats when something dawned on me, and it hurt deeply: my father was tight-fisted with the woman who cared for him and kept him company, but incredibly generous with his children, who only came to him for money and gave nothing in return.

Eventually, his marriage broke down. Now, he lives alone. Allegedly, one daughter looks after him, though everyone knows its he who supports her, her husband, and their children. The rest call him, make demands, and he sends money at the drop of a hat. The woman who stood by himhe always refused her.

Im not the same with him anymore. I love him, but its not like it was. I dont invite him on trips now, and we barely speak. If I dont ring, he never calls. I cant go back to how things were. It saddens me to admit it, because finding him was a huge dream come truebut now its as if hes no longer really there.