Fatherless Child, Heart Was Broken In Two Pieces

My name is Theodore, and I was living the life. I had a wonderful family, lots of toys, and a constant travel from north to deep down south. I had all the seafood I could eat, and parents that loved each other and loved me.  The greatest love of all came from my father. He treated me like his little princess. He even got a picture of me tattooed on his shoulder. He was my king and life was great, well or so I thought.

The arguments began between my parents. I was too young to know what the arguments were about. All I knew was I couldn’t wait until it was over so that I could get something new from the toy store. I always seemed to be rewarded when they got finished arguing  and made up. One to many arguments brought about my brother, me being the oldest. He was  like me twin and we were inseparable. Our family was perfect. Or was it?  I didn’t understand then what was going on. Obviously, I was a kid. Time spent with my parents became divided. Two houses, but more toys, more surprises,more arguments, and another baby. It was a girl. The birth of the third child is when life as I knew it begun to spin like water going down a drain. The arguments never stopped. I saw my mother less.  I never understood why, and  I often  questioned; however, why my sister looked different? Why was she lighter skin complexion than my brother and I? Why was her hair curly?  I noticed my connection with my father changed once my sister was born. He didn’t look  at me the same, and nothing was the same. I was in and out of therapy discussing everything under the sun. I was in and out of multiple doctor offices getting stuck with needles and large Q-tips swabbed in  my brother and I mouths. The last visit to the doctor office was different. The ride home was  different. It was silent, no eye contact, no mother, and no anything. It had been my father, my siblings and I  for a while.

Once we got home me and my sister clothes were being packed. I thought we were about to take
another trip down south and have a vacation at the beach. We did that often. My father told us
we were going to see our mother, and we were excited. The drive to the unknown begun.
I remember pulling up to this house I never seen before. It looked old and worn out, and there were  cats and dogs everywhere. A nice lady was there that, I never seen before. She knew our
names,but I didn’t think nothing of it. My father said that, we were here with our mother. Mother was
nowhere in site. My sister and I bags got removed from the trunk of the car, and my father returned
to his car with my brother and drove off. I was about 6, and he didn’t even say goodbye. He left us
with people we never met before. My mother side of the family. The years passed, and the dreams of my father coming back to pick me and my sister up became less and less. I thought I had done something wrong. I’m here with people that don’t care about me, and my grandmother was always working.  I was living with someone who were abusing me physically, mentally, and  emotionally. I was clueless as to why I was being tortured daily. I asked, where is my father? “He is NOT your father!” is what I was told. My heart broke in two, and the one that once treated me like a princess was gone. My king deserted me and I finally knew why. I am NOT his child. The only father I knew dropped me off and never looked back. He got rid of me like a pest, and it affected me negatively.

I spent my teenage years seeking a father figure, and making all the wrong choices. I was being rebellious, drinking, and smoking. I was mad at the world, and I  developed insecurities with myself. I always thought I wasn't pretty enough, and I was too fat. I became a binge eater and force vomiting daily. I tried to make myself perfect so that I couldn’t be  rejected by any one. I didn’t want to be rejected like I was by my father. It was hard for me to maintain friendships because I was always thinking that people will always disappoint me then eventually leave, so I didn’t have confidence in anyone. I didn't trust any one, and believed there was no such thing as friends or family.

Then,  I met my now husband at the age of 18 and we now have 3 children. He treats me like a queen, and I finally found my king. He treated me like I once was by the only father I knew. I have reconnected with my father, even though biologically he isn’t my father. I don’t know who
my biological father is to this day. He apologies for what he did, when I was a kid by dropping
me off. He said he was young and acted out of anger. Now that he is older, he wishes he
would've acted differently. I don’t call him dad or father, but by his name. It is easier that way.