Here are some excerpts from the audio file, below.
I told him in an email. I wrote it with the intention of hopefully coming clean with everything with respect to how I felt about him and that type of treatment, everything hoping he’d acknowledge me, that my feelings matter – I even used my siblings hurt too about some of his behavior toward them with respect to this, which maybe I shouldn’t have – it crossed a line. I just told him all of the hurts. I was done pretending, and my build-up, boiled over.
I was honest. I was a little mean too, I guess. It included my fears and hurts about some ways he’d treated me over the years and how I was not interested in that relationship anymore. I wanted and deserved more and better from him. For us.
We had this relationship much of my life where he would do what he would do and I would just accept it whether I liked it or not because mostly I wanted him to love me, and I did not want to rock the boat so I wouldn’t tell him how certain behaviors affected me. I would just blow it off – accepting it as him.
My hope, that he would treat what I was saying with some kind of respect and honor what little I was asking. I was hoping for a somewhat favorable response. Not. He answered, “I think it best that we no longer communicate with one each other. You’ve crossed a line.”
Anyway, though I felt resolved and good for me for taking myself and my feelings into consideration finally, more than his for once, I still wanted my dad. I’d always wanted my dad. That never goes away. I believe even if we are right or justified with our actions, the case remains that we wish for our parents to love us and to be the mature, guiding family they are intended to be, and to do what is right, always – for everyone, but they don’t always.
I believe that if we are without a good relationship with our parents, it hurts us. We are made to love and to be loved, you’d think especially by those who brought us into this world.
Accepting what he wrote, and taking full responsibility for what I wrote, my reply to him was, in effect, “I am sorry for what I wrote in that it came across meanly, but, I am in no way sorry for the content of what I wrote. What I wrote was all true, and if you cannot handle that, then that is on you, but I will in no way apologize for what I said.”
I felt strong and right for having stuck up for myself. It was the first time in my life with my dad like that. I left it at that. I was glad I didn’t feel diminished. Though I was sadly devastated, I was glad not to have caved, and wrote something back weak and self-denying, like, “Oh forgive me, I am so sorry, I don’t mean it. Please forgive me. Come back.” Essentially begging him not to leave me all the while not acknowledging the truth of who I was and how I have felt hurt by how he had treated me in certain situations. I was tired of the denial and deceit of what not standing up for me represented – a façade, as saying to myself that I don’t matter. I wasn’t willing to tolerate behavior that was deceitful nor was I willing to let myself down anymore essentially accepting that I did not matter. If I don’t matter, then let’s be true with it. I was done with all of that though. I could at least stand tall even know I was a sad on some level too.