“It severs one line of communication,” I replied matter-of-factly.
I reconnected with my biological father about a year ago and decided recently that it’s probably best that we go our separate ways. My husband knows that I’m notorious for self-protecting and that I believe cutting all lines of communication is most effective in such matters.
Don’t judge me.
Honestly, I felt like a walking contradiction. In one breath I was growing through the process of forgiving him (because he asked for it) and then in another breath I realized that I haven’t forgiven myself for being so hard on me about my emotions when it comes to him. I thought healing was happening but it was really denial – for us both.
Why is it so easy to forgive other people but not yourself?
“I know me,” I responded confidently to my husband. “…seeing his number in my phone will only tempt me to call and I’m done feeling rejected.”
Truth is I deleted his number on an impulse and yes, I found that I was the one doing all of the outreach. It was disappointing. The last few times that we did speak, the conversation felt forced like I was an imposition. I think I’ve always experienced this when it came to him.
Maybe if I called more often, sent pictures of the kids, put cards in the mail. . . . he’d love me. I was trying to think as an adult but really behaving like the 4 year-old version of myself that felt abandoned by him. I was changing myself for him, again.
I didn’t like it.
There was no forgiveness there. Who was I fooling?! But I sang that song of denial proudly, “Yes, I now have a relationship with my father.” I even had the nerve to sit boldly and wait for phone calls that seldom came, all the while refusing to articulate my feelings or expectations, trying desperately to endear myself to him.
I had a breakthrough last week (convenient, right?!) but it’s true. I experienced a movement that has caused a significant shift in my thinking and now I’m no longer seeing this situation as the 4 year-old Cece who believes she was a victim of her circumstance.
I needed to reclaim my power. I needed to show myself a little more compassion. I needed a new song to sing.
By waiting on him to call, to respond and show up in my life the way I thought he should was 4 year-old Cece’s expectation. . . . I gave my power away.
I’m not saying that I’m completely done. I’m in a different place now ( I hold no ill feelings) and I have perspective, that’s a powerful thing. It was a failed relationship. It happens. I can’t get what the other person does not have or is not willing to give…. and I’m okay with that.
There’s no need to self-protect anymore because I’ve got my own back (always have) and I’m singing a new song of redemption. This time the forgiveness is for me.