There I was, seven years old or so -- old enough to notice the difference between my friend's families and my own family but not quite old enough to understand -- asking my mom, "Why doesn't dad live with us?" This was still when I was in communication with my father.

Of course, I got a variation of the same answer that every single-mothered kid gets: "One day, your dad left to get your brother McDonald's ... and he never came back."

I didn't know the half of it.

As my father has come and gone throughout the years I was internally bombarded with questions from "Why weren't we enough?" to "Why does he still want to spend time with my brother and not me?"

I'll never know the answer to them and frankly, I don't want to.

It took me a long time to reconcile with this but now that I've made it to the point where I have voluntarily cut him out of my life, I don't ever want to go back.

For years, I thought there was something wrong with me -- like there was something in me that forced him to want to leave. I did everything I could to make up for it. I got good grades, I volunteered at church and at my dance studio, I stayed out of trouble with my mom (for the most part). I did everything I could to make him want to stay and then, at some point, I realized that I could be the greatest daughter, sister, student, and person to exist, with a list of accomplishments the size of Anna Karenina, and I still would not have been "good" enough to make him want to stay -- nothing could have.

This realization has changed my life for the better. After this realization, I stopped trying to impress people. I did things because I wanted to and if they didn't accept me for that, than so be it.

I now think about all that he's missed -- dance recitals, graduations, award ceremonies, college decisions -- and all that he will miss and you'd expect me to feel some kind of longing, some kind of sadness that my father has missed so many vital moments in his child's life. But I don't.

Every milestone, every step, every thought of a step, my mom has been there for and it is because of her that I have never felt without. She is a mother and a father and a best friend and a role model all rolled up into one 5'2" body. I have never been more thankful to be as close to her as I am and if my dad was in the picture, I don't know if I would be.

So, Dad, you have never really been a dad to me and honestly, you probably never will be, and I thank you for that. I'm happy, I'm whole, and I grow into more of the best version of myself every day -- all without you. We don't need you and now, I can wholeheartedly say, that I don't want you either.