Just Me

What Makes A Father?

If you’ve read some of my previous post you’ll know I wasn’t raised by my biological father. He was in my life till I was about 3 and lets just say he failed miserable even then.

My biological father met my mum when she was about 16-17 and he was 10 years older than her, needless to say my grandparents were not thrilled about it. She didn’t have the best of relationship with my biological father who was a ba*tard to put it bluntly, I don’t want to get into this as its not my story to tell but he made my mum’s life a misery, and it was the best thing for her to get away from him.

My mum fell pregnant with me when she was 21 years old and my biological father neither stepped up to the role or played his part. My mum would move heaven and earth for me, him, not so much.

My grandparents wanted me and my mum away from him and this finally happened when he was sent to prison and she took this chance to get out and move back home to my grandparents.

My mum and grandparents have never hid anything from me and always answered the questions I have brought to them. “Did he ever try to see me? Did you take me to see him? Was his side of the family interested?” Each and every questions they answered and never made me feel I couldn’t ask anything I needed to.

My mum took me to see my biological father when he was in prison a few times and he once stated to her that when he was released he would take me from her. Over her dead body. This is one thing that really makes me angry and annoyed, he stated this and was so insistent that it would happen that my mum went to make a will stating if anything happened to her my Grandparents would get custody of me and the reasons behind this. But: what bothers me is why not bother with me after this? If your saying things like that why not fight for me ?

So he dwindle out of the picture, I found him again not long after I’d had my daughter as that made me question how a parent can just abandon their child, and needless to say I’ve heard next to nothing and sometimes wish I’d never bothered. The only good thing to come from this is I now speak to a sister he had with another women and that’s the only thing I’d have to be thankful to him for and even that’s a strong word.

I’am thankful for my biological father having no interest in me to be blunt as this allowed me to be raised by 2 great men.

The first being my grandad who was more of a father to me and my best friend, I stayed with my grandparents most weekends so my mum was able to work. My grandad taught me many a different things from the simple things such as the night sky, to always do what I want and never let anybody tell me otherwise.  He’s the first person I turn to with a problem, I know he will never judge me and always offers me the guidance I need. He has the ability to make me smile when I don’t want to and always reassures me when I’m down.

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The second is the man I have called Dad, my mum met my step-father Paul when I was I think about 3 and although their relationship has ended, that has not affected ours. When I first met Paul, I’ve been told I would not sit anywhere near him and if looks could kill they would of done! I have no idea how he managed to win me round as even now if I don’t like someone, I don’t like them and as horrible as it sounds it can be obvious sometimes that I don’t. So I’ve no idea how he managed to win around the 4 year old me. Paul had a son from a previous relationship and although he didn’t live with us he came to stay and visit. and I never felt I was treated any different. For the majority of the time it was me, my mum and Paul, and I now: being a step-parent myself I can only begin to understand how difficult it must of been for him.

This man always made sure I had everything I needed and wanted and I was never without. He taught me to stand up for myself and take not sh*t from anyone, always speak my minds and accept nothing but the best. He did his utmost best for me, my mum and Paul went on to have my brother Troy when I was 6 and thinking back I do remember being jealous and probably thinking to myself the love would change towards me, but it didn’t. Paul’s family took me on and to them I’ll always be grateful too as this also never changed when my mum and Paul had my brother and sister together.

One day I’d had a bath and was having my hair checked through with the nit comb, Paul always got this job as my mum was not the most gentle of  women when it came to this haha. For some reason and I can’t remember why Paul must of told me off, or had a word with me to behave, nothing dramatic, no shouting, just a basic behave. I turned slightly over my shoulder and said ” You can’t tell me what to do, your not my dad”.  Now at 26 years old I can only imagine how it must of felt a child he’d been raising as his own for several years saying that to him, at the time I registered his expression and I could see I’d hurt him but only now can I fully understand how that must of hurt him.

This was the one and only time I ever said those words to this man and I would never say them again.

Me and Paul have had our difference, don’t get me wrong, and we’ve not always seen eye to eye. I think as I got older I’d adopted his attitude and we had a clash of heads at times as we can both be very stubborn and stand up for what we believe in, but we can have the most brilliant of times, even if I’am the black sheep. ( Inside joke there).

This post was about what makes a father, it’s not about providing financially, the odd phone call, it is so much more. Anybody can be a father, anyone can have a child, not everybody can call themselves parents and earn the title Dad

But Paul, my dad.

He has.

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