Dear Dad,

You will probably never read this. I mean, how could I expect you to when I've never even heard your voice in my life. Nevertheless, I wanted to write you a thank you letter for all you've done for me. Even though you haven't been in my life for nineteen years, you have taught me so much.

So, thank you, Dad, for teaching me to not trust anything a man says. Even though my mom, one of the many women you've cheated on, has taught me that not all men are the same, I still have an underlying judgment that everything men do is a lie. Even though I've had an uncle who proves more than any man that good men do exist, I am still waiting for him to disappoint me. When my ex-boyfriend would say hurtful things then apologize and act like nothing happened, I expected it. Didn't you do the exact same? To me, that's just what men do. As much as I hate that I think this way, I can't seem to shake it. That's thanks to you. Because, when you left you took my trust in men with you.

Thank you, Dad, for teaching me to deal with people leaving me. Every time someone important to me fades out of my life, I'm not even phased. I'm numb to the idea that people mean it when they say they'll never leave me. I am used to not being a priority in most people's lives because I certainly wasn't a priority to you.

Thank you, Dad, for filling my heart with anger. Every Father's Day or Father/Daughter Event I've missed built up my contempt for people who actually had a father. Every question of "What about your dad?" was answered by "Oh, I don't have a dad." A phrase I've said so many times it's impossible to keep the anger from spilling out and seeping into my voice.

Thank you, Dad, for closing off an entire part of my heritage from me. Until recently, I haven't had any connections to the Black side of my family. It took my half-brother, one of many, to reach out to me to even learn their names. Even then, I will never have a strong connection with them because you refuse to claim me.

Thank you, Dad, for keeping me a secret from your new wife. You've never met me so why even keep me a secret? Just own up to the fact that you have a daughter you've not been there for instead of convincing the poor woman who decided to marry you that my mother "dropped a kid on you sixteen years later." My mother was never the bad guy here. You are, and always will be. I hope that poor new woman you got engaged to on my birthday (though I'm sure you didn't realize it was my birthday) will learn that, before she gets hurt like you hurt my mother. Even more so, I hope that any of my future half-siblings you have with her will be treated better than I have been. Especially if they're girls.

The strange thing to me is, you keep in contact with my brothers. Why not me? Is it because you know my mother and that she raised me to be a strong woman? Is it because you're afraid of that?

Because I'm a strong woman, is that why you expect me to reach out to you? That's hilarious because since when is it my responsibility to make an effort to talk to you? It is yours. Be a man, no, be a decent human being and own up to the fact that you have made the biggest mistake of your life by keeping me out of it.

When I have a successful career, something you'll never have, do not decide to reach out to me then. You won't be met with violence or even too much anger. Instead, you'll be met with pity. Because I pity you, truly I do, and I don't think your ego is strong enough to handle my pity. You must have had a really messed up life for you to actively decide to mess up mine.

Finally: Thank you, Dad, for teaching me what to never do to my children. Your future grandchildren (though you don't get the right to call them that) will be raised in a house of love like I was. However, instead of only one parent who loves them, they will have two. They will be raised to be strong girls and/or boys. They will be raised to not let people walk over them. They will be raised to be successful while being humble and compassionate. They will be taught to trust and to love, and won't harbor anger in their hearts. They will never experience what it is like to have a huge parent-shaped hole in their life. Most importantly, they will never be taught what you taught me.

So from myself and my future family: thank you, Dad.