To My Step-Father,

I don’t hate you, I just don’t know you. I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve been in the same room together these past 16 years. We never had to spend time together or get to know one another. I wasn’t an elementary school kid when our families merged together. I didn’t have to shuffle between houses or get to know you as my step-dad. I was 18 and in college when you entered my life, and this all was too much for my still child-like self to process.

In the beginning, I pretended like I was fine; but the truth is, my parent’s divorce devastated me. I had never even heard my parents fight or raise their voices to one another. Their divorce and my mom’s remarriage came as a shock, and I struggled to accept my new identity: a kid of divorce. Divorce was something that happened to other kid’s parents, but surely not mine.

My resistance to you had more to do with my own emotional turmoil than you personally. My entire life was suddenly on shaky ground, and I had no idea how to work through this unimaginable loss. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I had to un-enroll from college and move back home. I felt like a failure.

I thought moving home would make everything better, but living at home was unbearably hard. The house was too quiet; my mom’s side of the closet too bare. Rather than work through the pain, I ran from it. Raw emotions and tension filled the house, so I was practically never there. I hopped from one friend’s house to another and somehow avoided being home most hours of the day.

At the same time of their divorce, I was grappling with a turbulent on-again-off-again romantic relationship. As my family was breaking apart, I was trying to navigate a volatile relationship. On good days, I felt supported and understood. On the worst days, I was an embarrassment and unworthy of love. But the loss of my family made me cling tight to this relationship. Hard conversations and authenticity weren’t my thing, so I swallowed who I was and stayed in this relationship for far too long. You see step-dad, you entered my life at a time when my whole world was a giant pain-filled mess, and it felt easier to just blame you for it all.

But here we are 16 years later, and nothing has changed. We never moved past the hurt and blame.The easiest thing we can do is to continue on like we have been: no relationship, maintaining the silence, and pretending like it does not put my mother between a rock and a hard place.

It does.

But where does that leave us as individuals? For the last 16 years I have been stuck, unable to move past the pain and hurt, unable to move past laying blame at your feet. But if you knew me, you would know that I am no longer that person who runs from authenticity and hard conversations. Every day I set an intention to invite in love, joy, and authenticity. Brené Brown tells us that “vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity.” So, what hope do we have of finding more love and joy in our lives without being vulnerable and working through past hurt and blame?

This path will be difficult, but showing our vulnerability and putting in the work is the only way forward. So, I will do my best to remove the blame I laid at your feet. I will stop assuming that I knew the man you were 16 years ago, and challenge myself to find out who you are today.

Sincerely,

Your step-daughter