I grew up not knowing my biological father.
It’s strange making that distinction even after all of these years…that I have to distinguish between my “biological father” and my dad, the guy who raised me from the age of 3 after my mother and he married. You would think that having a father introduced into my life at that tender age would have blocked off any thought of my “real” father; unfortunately, as it turned out for me (and I would image so many others), being Dad’s “stepdaughter” only intensified the effects of not having a relationship with the co-donor, Billy Wayne Woods. Today, I still struggle with my past of not really belonging to any man as a child, being truly claimed by only 1/2 of a family. I have fought for 30 years now with the vague feelings of not being wanted and not feeling worthy of a loving relationship with a man…and it all started with losing that first man, my father.
Why is the one relationship most likely to be broken the one that matters so much?