They say blood is what makes you family, what makes you related. Sure, it does make you related to someone, but that doesn’t mean you’re family. When it came to family, my mother thought she didn’t need a man to help raise me. She thought she could do it all on her own with no help, but she was wrong.
I love my mother and appreciate everything she has done. She‘s sacrificed a lot as a single parent and I couldn’t ask for a better mother. This whole time, I always thought I was just a mistake, but my mother wanted me, she wanted a baby.
Somehow, my father was a charmer back in the days and he wooed my mother. My mother was really happy with my father before I came into the world, but as soon as she got pregnant, things changed. My father turned into a slick, cheating, liar, and started using substances and drinking more than he should have. This was all before I was born and as soon I came into this world, things got worse. He started selling and abusing drugs, went out a lot, even had sex with multiple women. Karma got to him though when he got sent to prison.
Being a kid and growing up, I never understood why my father was never there for me. He didn’t teach me how to ride a bike or drive a car, and he never took me on those cute father-daughter dates. I never knew how those experiences felt because I never had that with my father. He spent most of my life in jail because of drugs or because he didn’t pay child support. I just always thought that he didn’t love me or didn’t want me, and thus the reason why he was never there for me. I depended mostly on my mother for just about everything as times have been tough for the both of us. I thought it didn’t matter that I didn’t have a father in my life because I got so used to not having one.