09/04/2026
Healing is funny. One day you’re in the thick of it, in shambles, questioning everything you’ve done to survive. Then you wake up one day indifferent. The same sting, that a younger version of you would have felt through her whole body, no longer stings. I can remember a version of myself in pieces the first time my father abandoned me. The second time, it hurt but she expected it. Third time, she was numb. The fourth time- well she was over it and not letting him come back.
There has been a lot of healing behind this abandonment wound. Perhaps it became my identity at one point. I healed out loud- even if it was uncomfortable.
But this is also part of healing. The raw reality that it no longer stings like it used to. While cooking dinner after a day of homeschooling. Lyrics to a song just don’t cut you open like they would have before.
I’m one of many with daddy issues. Motherhood has ripped those issues wide open. One thing I’ll never regret, and quite frankly I pride myself on, is that my children will never feel the abandonment from him that everyone else in my family has felt.