On my last Father's Day without a Dad

usually it's the other way around

It has been fascinating to look back over the past (nearly) decade and unpick how I have mapped my feelings towards my dad. I have gone from being triggered in card aisles to bonding with my dad to connecting with others going through similar experiences. It’s been a journey filled with reflection, community, and therapy - and one that may end soon.

As it stands, my dad is looking to be released within the next year - so this is probably my last Father’s Day without him physically present.

It’s a realization that feels different at any given time - on some days I am excited to introduce him to my favourite dishes across London (Berenjak’s hummus! Korean BBQ! Soho cocktail bars!) and I am filled with anxiety on other days.

Everyone goes through life-changing situations at one point; be it a divorce, death, diagnosis, (or in my case a parent’s incarceration); many can relate to the reality shifts that follow such events. As a result, I have spent much of my 20s picking up the pieces of my life that have been collateral damage to my dad’s actions - trust, stability, relationships, shame - fundamentals that I have had to rediscover for myself. A lot has changed during this period, the most notable being the person I am now.

How I show up in the world is significantly different; I have more power and agency than I give myself credit for. I no longer shrink myself, I speak my truth and feel confident in who I am. This leads to inherently different groundwork for a relationship - one that can be based on transparency, openness, and showing up as the person that I am. Not the person they wish I was.

This is one of the blessings in disguise that my dad’s absence has gifted me: the space to reconfigure my life to what I want it to look and feel like, versus what is expected of me. I have grown into a woman with my own life, friends, hobbies, way of thinking, and style. Things that didn’t exist when my dad left - I’ve had to realize our future relationship doesn’t have to be the same as our previous one. I wasn’t afforded the luxury of having a nostalgic fixed point in a relationship to look back on, it’s a non-conventional form of grief.

I think this is where the anxiety stems from; how will his physical presence shift the life that I have worked so hard to build? I constantly remind myself that nobody can weaponize a truth against me that I own, and how validating it has been connecting with others who have experienced absent fathers in their own personal ways.

I don’t know how a physically present dad would have shaped me as a young woman, and it’s something I will never know. I spent a long time resentful whilst, wondering why I was burdened with this taboo. At the same time, I recognise that I am blessed to have an emotionally intelligent dad who supports, believes in, and cherishes me to the best of his ability - and makes it all abundantly clear to me. I choose to no longer look at our relationship through a lens of resentment. Instead of anxiety looking to redefine the relationship that we will have, I am aware of how much hope and reconciliation the world has to offer. There is a lot I’ve gone without, but then again, hasn’t everyone? If he was present, who is to say things would have been how I hoped for them to be?

When I say this journey may end soon, I know it will never end - it’s lifelong work, unpacking feelings, actions, and their impact on me. But at the point of writing, I feel hopeful. Not with expectations, assumptions, or dreams - simply hope. I know the person I am now is enough for me, and I don’t look to my dad for acceptance.

I feel okay and I unequivocally know that I am not alone in my feelings and experiences, which is probably the most beautiful gift the last few years could have given me.