After my parents’ divorce, my father continued to ignore me in favor of his new wife’s kids for years. When I finally had enough, I gave him a valuable lesson in the importance of consequences. He wasn’t impressed, let’s say!
Dad gave the impression that nothing would change for a while after my parents’ divorce when I was four years old. However, after he remarried, things started to shift and I started to lose importance until I finally had enough.
The terms of my parents’ divorce were straightforward: Dad would have weekends and I would live with my mother. It worked at first. Dad picked me up on Saturday mornings, called frequently, and occasionally remained late to read a bedtime tale or assist with my homework.
Then he met Jane.
From her former marriage, Jane had three children: Emma, Tyler, and Logan. They moved into Dad’s house almost immediately, and I was the guest. He initially invited me to game nights and birthday celebrations in an attempt to unite the families.
However, it was obvious that I was not a part of their new customs or inside jokes. To put in the living area, they created a family canvas using painted handprints. I didn’t have my.
I initially told myself it was just a difficult adjustment.
But after that, I started to disappear from his life as the cancellations started.
“Sorry, pumpkin, Logan’s got a soccer game today,” he’d say when he was supposed to pick me up. Or, “Tyler wants to go to the play center. You understand, right?” When I wanted to go to the movies with him, he’d reply, “We already saw a movie this week.”
He would always say, “We’re doing family things, you should be happy!” in response to my criticism that he was missing our time together when he brought me along to events with his stepchildren. Additionally, your events aren’t as enjoyable.
I bought myself a ticket to a performance for a band we both loved when I was thirteen years old using the money I earned from babysitting. Like in the past, it was meant to be unique, just the two of us. He said he would buy his and accompany me to the concert when I told him about it.
Three days prior to the concert, I gave him a call.
“Ah, about that, pumpkin. Emma has been pleading for her room to be painted, so I bought supplies with the money.
I once stumbled and broke my arm while climbing the old oak tree in Mom’s backyard. I kept my eyes on the door at the hospital, waiting for Dad to storm in. He didn’t. “Your dad is tied up today,” Mom whispered softly as she sat beside my bed later. He wanted me to express his pride in you.
I’m proud. What are you proud of? Taking care of discomfort without him?
Later, I found out that the day I was in the hospital, Jane’s child had their tonsils removed.
He accused me of being jealous when I tried to express how devastated I was! He remarked, “It’s not all about you anymore,” as if I should feel guilty for wanting to remain in his life.
In contrast, Mom never faltered! She worked extra shifts, brought me snacks late at night when I was studying, and applauded louder than anyone at my school plays—she was my castle!
When the nightmares were too much for her to handle alone, she sat up with me and watched internet tutorials to learn how to braid my hair!
My school organized a field trip a few years ago. It wasn’t inexpensive. I asked Dad if he could divide the expense because I didn’t want to burden Mom with it. He instantly answered “yes.” I told my history instructor I was going because I was so excited!
You guessed it, Dad called two weeks before to the due date.
“I apologize, but the twins’ birthday celebration is approaching, Pumpkin. They only have one birthday. The cost of the bouncy house we’re getting will be high. You get it, don’t you?
That’s when I finally understood. I was a convenience. An afterthought.
Mom made sure I went on that trip by borrowing the money. That day, without telling her, I made the silent decision to stop begging for a man’s attention or following after him because he didn’t want to stay.
Now we are in my senior year.
Graduation was coming up, and I wanted to make the most of it. I had worked hard to become the best student in my class. It everything paid off—long nights, countless essays, and part-time work! Without Dad’s assistance, I was accepted to my ideal college. Mom was overjoyed! Dad was, well, courteously unconcerned.
Even so, I was taken aback when he volunteered to help pay for my graduation celebration. I tentatively accepted, allowing room for the typical disappointment while holding out hope that this time might be different.
The phone rang a week prior to the celebration. He was the one.
“Hi, pumpkin. Listen, Tyler hasn’t been feeling well recently. The schoolchildren are making fun of him. Jane and I reasoned that a shopping trip could help him feel better. Would it be acceptable if we used the party funds for that instead? Right now, he needs it more than you do.
That tone, which said that I should simply roll over and act like the grownup, was back.
I inhaled. “Actually, no.” I hung up after that.
The envelope was still sealed when I drove to his residence two days later. Jane smiled politely but strainedly as she answered the door. Emma was sprawled on the couch, painting her nails, while Tyler and Logan were arguing over the TV remote.
Dad emerged from the kitchen and used a dish towel to wipe his hands.
“What’s up, pumpkin?”
“I won’t be needing this. Thanks anyway.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but I didn’t stay to hear it.
Graduation day was bright and humid, the gym packed with families carrying flowers, balloons, and air horns! Mom was front and center, her face lit up like the Fourth of July! Beside her was Mike, her boyfriend of the past year.
Mike wasn’t flashy, but he was consistent. In the year we’d known him, he’d driven me to college interviews, sat through endless speech practices, and even proofread my essays when Mom was too tired after work!
He wasn’t trying to replace anyone; he just showed up!
It was a custom at our school for the top graduates to be invited to walk onstage with their parents or a mentor. I smoothed the wrinkles out of my gown and got up when my name was called.
I caught a glimpse of Dad standing as well, adjusting his tie and getting ready to march down.
But as he looked up at me, he became quite enraged upon realizing what was going on!
Mike silently moved up next to me before he could approach the stage.
The collective breath hold of the crowd was palpable to me! Halfway down the aisle, Dad froze and stared.
Mike smiled slightly, steadily, and held out his hand to me.
“Pardon me? “Who the devil is THAT?” He stormed onto the stage and barked, his voice cutting through the quiet. “Her father is me! I ought to be up there.
I spun around, allowing all of the eyes in the gym to remain fixed on us.
“Oh, NOW you remember you’re my dad?” I said, maintaining a level voice. “You forget for 10 years, but now that there’s a stage and an audience, you’re suddenly interested?”
His face became deeper in hue as he opened and closed his mouth.
“You’re being dramatic,” he said weakly.
“No,” I said. “You’ve been absent. So today, I brought someone who actually shows up. Someone who doesn’t treat me like a burden or an afterthought.”
He shifted, appearing nearly diminutive. “Unbelievable,” he whispered to himself. “I raised you.”
“No, Mom did. What about the past year? “He did,” I answered, giving Mike a nod. “The man who stayed up with me during every meltdown, helped me with every college app, and cheered at every interview.”
The crowd wasn’t on Dad’s side when he looked around again! He shuffled backward, making just the squeak of his shoes!
Silently, “So that’s it?” he asked. “I get replaced?”
I didn’t even try to respond to him.
He discovered that decisions had repercussions that day. On the most significant day of their lives, they occasionally call someone else “Dad” while wearing a gown, heels, and a cap!
Mike turned back to me and squeezed my hand reassuringly.
“Ready?” he said in a warm, quiet voice.
I grinned.
“More than ever.”
Together, we crossed the stage. I also didn’t feel like someone’s second option for the first time in a long time. It was as if someone had chosen to show there and I was their kid.
