It sucks when you think someone’s changed and then have to figure out the hard way that they haven’t. For the past 4/5 years the only conversations i’ve had with my dad have been pretty short and just about things we have to talk about. Sometimes he sends me things and i text him thank you, but that’s as casual and friendship as our conversations will get (or as far as i’ll let them get). Ive seen him 3 times in those 4/5 years. The first time was because i wanted to see my cousins and i said he could have lunch with me if they came. The second time was for my birthday which i said i would have lunch with him if the rest of my family came too. And the 3rd time was at my grandparents anniversary party where i brought a friend with me to feel safer and more comfortable. All 3 of those times i barely talked to/answered my dad when he was talking to me because, well, i don’t like him.
The first 2 years after i stopped living with him, i tried so hard to mend our relationship. I tried to reason with him, talk things out, make him realize how much he hurt me. I begged him to attend just ONE of my therapy sessions. I would cry on the phone every-time he called. I would literally try to force myself to forgive him for all the abuse he put me through because i though it was my fault that he didn’t want to try to be a decent father to me. I blamed myself for so long for everything and i grew bitter and hateful towards him and had so many negative emotions about him and myself building up inside of me until it made me crazy and i finally exploded.
And then i learned to love myself. And i began to heal. And i unlearned all the awful behavior and lies he put into me. and i grew so much, and that hate eventually faded into pain. And that pain subsided and now is a small throb that comes back every now and then.
Well, as soon as i became content and happy with my life- my father began to make an effort to mend what he broke. I thought “the universe was waiting for me to heal before we tried again” and i truly thought he may have been different. He seemed calmer, he seemed kinder, he seemed like he cared about me and like he loved me as a daughter and wanted fix his mistakes. And for 6 months i let him into my life a little, i talked to him for longer, and i kept thinking “maybe he’s different. maybe he cares”.
But then i recently found out he’s been stealing money from my mom, keeping most of it and then sending me some as a “to help with covid” gift. And then his I contacted his family and found out he’s been lying about me to them. Telling them i’m a wh*re and that ive been pregnant and got abortions (which isn’t true but even if it was that’s none of his business)and that i hate christians and i hate them and so many more horrible things. And i just feel so betrayed. Not only by him but by myself. I just don’t understand why i didn’t realize he wasn’t talking to me because he cared, he was talking to me to manipulate me.