Okay, so let me just start off with saying that I have mad respect for the women who are able to feed and raise one or more children on their own. It takes a very strong, independent person to be able to do that. I mean, I know that I am not the only person who has a single mother. Heck, I have friends that are single mothers. Anyway.. I have mad respect for them. However, that isn't what this is about. I would like to pause and take a second to discuss the father figures that we, as females, should have.

Everyone at some point in their life has heard the term "daddy's girl". We all know what it means. It has roughly the same definition or reference on a person as "mommy's boy". It literally means that the girl child favors more toward the male parent such as the boy usually favors more toward the female parent. Hence, "mommy's boy" and "daddy's girl". Irrelevant. Not everyone has this luxury.

For example, my mother has raised two children, my brother and me, alone for so long. And if you ask me, she has done a damn good job. We have definitely had our rough patches, but she has always been there for me when no one else has been. Even though she has been a wonderful mother to us, she shouldn't have to do it alone. There is a term that people use when a mother and a father aren't together in a committed relationship, but work together parenting their child. This word is "co-parenting". In case some men don't know what that means, I just explained it.

The main point in me trying to explain all of this is so I could tell my story to everyone reading this. The situation may apply to your parental situation, but I truly hope that it doesn't.

You see, I have two parents just like anybody else. My mother who has raised me for the majority of my life and my step father, Tony. Although Tony has only been in our lives for a short time, I have no doubt in my mind that he will be around forever. That's what father's do. In the two and a half years that he has been in our lives, he has done more for my brother and I than either one of our "dads" could have ever done. Like I said, I have TWO parents. Then...I have my biological dad. But I feel like just because you donate the sperm to help create a person, doesn't make you a father.

Now don't get me wrong. Some men step up. Some men stay and co-parent with the mothers just fine. Some men are the greatest fathers to their children that you could ever imagine. But not always. I wasn't given the pleasure of growing up with a dad who actually cared.

From the time that I was born until I was about 10 years old or so, I remember my dad being a decent person. Growing up, I always rotated my time between both of my parents. I would spend a week with my mom and then rotate and spend a week with my dad. It sucked, but at least I got to spend quality time with both of them and all of my siblings as well. Both parents have struggled with things. Both of my parents have moved a lot. But My mother has always put mine and my brother's needs in front of her's and everyone else's.

My parents had gotten married and then divorced when I was one-year-old. My mother had moved on and along came my little brother and then there were three. However, my dad had moved on a couple of times, I guess. I had another brother come along and then eventually my dad remarried. She was a woman from Kentucky. The doctors had told her multiple times that she couldn't have children, but then eventually she became pregnant and then another brother was born.

She was probably the only step-mother I ever had that actually loved me and helped me. She taught me how to do so many things like cook, bake, and do laundry. My dad and her were married up until I was about 12 years old. And in the midst of their relationship, I had decided that I wanted to move in with them full time. That hurt my mother more than I could've ever imagined, but at the time, I really didn't care. My relationship with my mom wasn't that great and even though she loved me more than anything in the world, I wanted no part of it. Well then one day, I remember my dad coming in and writing her a note. In that note, from what I gathered, he had told her that he was leaving her, moving our stuff out, and that he didn't love her anymore. I was upset, but I was young and didn't fully understand what was happening at the time other than the fact that we were moving...again. We moved in with my grandparents for about a week or two until I guess parenting was too much and then he sent me back to live with my mother.

I was so angry with him. I was angry, hurt, and heartbroken. He promised me that he would come back and get me. He just said "Let me get settled into a place of my own and then I PROMISE that I'll be back to get you." Well...Guess what. No dad. After that, I didn't speak to him again for SIX MONTHS. It wasn't because I was mad and throwing a fit and wanted to ignore him. I didn't speak to him because I was twelve and my "daddy" never decided to pick up the phone and call me.

Come to find out, he had moved in with this evil woman. I don't even like speaking about her, but I'm trying to tell everyone the whole story. When I tell you that they were together for seven very long years and that those were the seven worst years of my life, I am not exaggerating. That woman wouldn't let me sleep in a bed. She wouldn't even let me sleep on the couch! Every time I was over there to visit my dad, I had to sleep in the living room floor. She literally made my life so miserable that I never wanted to go over there. I ended up getting diagnosed with Astrocytoma about three or four years into their relationship. For those of you who do not know what that is, it's cancer. Astrocytoma is a malignant brain tumor. Well, with cancer comes a lot of medication. Not very cheap medication either, if I might add. One night, two of her three children broke open one of my medicine bottles and threw it all over one of the bedrooms. I was so upset and was trying to talk about what happened and was asking them why they would do something like that to me. When I was trying to talk to them, his girlfriend started yelling at me. She was saying things like, "Your mom doesn't even love you", "No one even likes you", and all sorts of mean things. Then, I called my mother, at two in the morning, and had her come and pick me up. After that, I was finished.I was never going over there again.

Now, I know it is a lot to read and you probably think that I'm either full of crap or you're more than ready for me to shut up. But I promise, it's almost over. And not a "I'm going to come back to get you" kind of promise, but an actual promise.

These days, my mother is married, as you already know, and so is my dad. His wife and I got off to a rough start, but we're on decent terms now. Anyway, when they married, she already had a little girl named Elizabeth. We all call her Lizzy. She is eight years old now I do believe and she is SO VERY full of life. I don't see them much, but I'm starting to bird-walk with the conversation, so let me get back on track...

Since he is married and has his "new family", he has started doing things for them, which is fine. But things like that are only okay if YOU STILL CO-PARENT FOR YOUR OWN CHILDREN.

The only support system I ever had was my mother. She was at every ball game, every pageant, every doctor's appointment, and everything in between. She loves me. She's there for me. And she has been EVERYTHING that a mother and father are both supposed to be. Now, this beautiful, happy, and enthusiastic little girl is getting all of the parenting that every little girl should. It makes me so happy. I really am. I am so happy for her, but at the same time I'm not. I'm jealous of her.

I'm jealous that she is getting all of that love and attention that my brothers and I should've gotten. We deserved to have someone there that actually showed up to our ball games. We deserved to have someone love us and be there for us, not only when the going got tough, but when everything was good too. It hurts me so bad to see him be such a good father to her, when he couldn't even be a father at all to me.

That being said, I would also like to make note that: Yes. I am happy for her. Yes. I am glad that she has someone there to support her even though I didn't. But no. I am not looking forward to her future. He may stay and be the best father to her that he wouldn't have ever been to us. His track record, though, says different. I'm more worried about her than anything. My brothers and I are all doing just fine without him. We learned how to cope with the fact that our father didn't want us. But her.. My heart hurts so bad for her. I know what it's like for my father not to want me. I know what its like to have that love and then to have it all thrown in the trash because it's not what he wants right then. She doesn't. All that sweet, little girl knows is his love. So what happens when and if all of this happens to her? Although, I honestly hope and pray that it doesn't.

It makes me feel like he never really loved me. It's like I was and still am nothing to him. But it's okay. I have two parent's who ARE there for me. They support me and love me in everything that I have done and will do. I have a wonderful life and I am so appreciative and thankful for my mother who loves me now and forever unconditionally.

So, if you're reading this, Eric, thank you for being the dad that didn't chose me, because now I finally have one who does.