Over the last 15 years, I have been asked the same question repeatedly when telling stories: are you talking about your dad or your step-dad? To me, the man that has been in my life since before I turned five years old is my dad and that is the end of it. I also get asked often about how I felt when my biological father and mother got divorced, but I never know how to respond because all I know about it is from stories.
I barely know my biological father, and the only times I saw him growing up was when I was sent to Costa Rica for a month at a time and was expected to bond with a stranger. Some might think it's crazy I never wanted a relationship with him, but to me, I already had a dad back home. One that wanted to spend time with me other than the one month per year until I was 14 years old. I already had someone who loved me unconditionally, and who wished me a happy birthday. I knew back in the states I had a family who loved me. I never would forget my family in Costa Rica or where I came from but I did not want to be reminded of terrible visits and judgment for living in the United States and never calling. I wanted to be wanted.
On October 17, 2015, I made a big decision in my life. I walked into the courthouse with my mom and dad and stood in front of a judge requesting to be adopted. On that day, we walked out to the car as officially father and daughter. I remember being so nervous about the whole process and not knowing what was going to happen. I had many meetings and phone conversations before that day, however, October 17th now holds a great meaning in my heart.
My dad always wants what is best for me and when I'm happy he knows. He was and still is my biggest supporter, other than my mom, of course. He is the one who sat through countless ballet recitals, took me to school or picked me up from the bus and came to every game I had no matter the weather or how boring it was. My dad and I used to have dinner every Tuesday in middle school, just the two of us before I had a tutoring session (I was a horrible reader and writer... funny, I know). When I need help, I know I can turn to him... that is, when he turns his phone on.
I just want to say thank you. Thank you to my dad: for taking on the responsibility of being my parent. I know I was not always rainbows and unicorns because, well, I was a teenager. He never once made me feel like I was not his own. In fact, he does everything he can to make sure I am comfortable and happy. Thank you for being there when I needed a coffee buddy or someone to have lunch with. But most of all, thank you for being my dad.
