Goodbye Daddy, Hello Bob

I'm writing this message to my younger self as a healing tool, to show my daughter how to be authentic and speak her truth; to my siblings who share similar challenges in their relationship with our father, and to every person who struggles with being their incredible authentic self because they are afraid to let go of his "I am so proud of you." ​

My four siblings and their families have left California. I no longer have my last remaining sister to organize the monthly get-together with Dad. It was up to me now to keep this relationship going. He is leaving California, too, after he wraps up a few more jobs. He and his wife had just moved into their new home in Texas. This is my last chance to let my father know the 40-year-old version of myself. The kids and I started having Papa over for dinner every Monday night, followed by a movie with unlimited candy, a childhood tradition now being passed down to my children. They loved the all-you-can-eat candy and the $100 bill Papa would pull out for each of them at the night's end. This is the way he showed his love through gifts.

I felt so loved by these gifts. He rewarded me for my good behavior at weekly dinners and listening intently and agreeably to all his absurd conspiracy theories. I nodded my head yes, asked questions, and died on the inside. If he only knew what I felt about these conspiracies. But I never disagreed or started an argument because I was always wrong. As a teenager, I played this game all too often, and it never got me anywhere. Through all our interactions, he showed me what type of woman he wanted me to be. That's why I took the Buddha off the shelf and put it into the closet when he came each week. I knew I was hiding myself. It wasn't until my daughter questioned my behavior that I became ultra-aware of my fear of his disapproval and my inability to speak my truth.

Movie nights became tricky. My dad enjoyed romantic comedies. Every time a same-sex relationship appeared on the screen, his strong disgust with homosexuality would explode out of his mouth. His words were degrading and filled with rage. It was so bad that the kids started screening the movies we could watch with Papa. How would I ever tell him I had fallen in love with a woman last year? For now, this secret was tucked away in the closet next to Buddha.

What I thought would be only a couple of months of dinners turned into more than a year as he continued to work in California and didn't move to Texas. Every Monday, I was filled with anxiety and dread that my dad was coming. I was hanging on to the thread that he would eventually be gone, and I would be free to be myself again. I wanted to show him who I had become weekly, yet I was so afraid that he wouldn't accept me. Hearing my dad say, "I am so proud of you," was the most powerful phrase. I craved his acceptance. Making him proud was a way of showing gratitude for his guidance and support and acknowledging his role in shaping who I am today. His only acceptance and approval were for a character I was roleplaying for him, not my true self.

My mindset shifted after being called on in one of Marie Manucheri's online Manifestation courses. Marie is an energy intuitive and someone I adore, cherish, and value. This lesson focused on the magical experiences of freeing our minds and letting go to be present. Marie called on me and asked what came to my mind when I asked myself what I was letting go of. I instantly thought of my father, especially his acceptance of my being with a woman.

Marie said she knew she called on me for a reason and asked, "What if he's not your dad? Parents, lovers, and siblings are only meant to be in your life and are only your real family if you feel loved by them. DNA is meaningless. In truth, he's not your father. He's a soul, a human being, who may be lovely, but he's not in the sacred, authentic vibration of parenting. Stop using the word dad and start calling him by his first name. You chose him for a particularly good reason. You wanted to be different from him, to learn to love yourself deeply. Despite what he wants from you, you have become your person, which is powerful for your soul to experience in a lifetime.

In letting go, you allow things to be what they are, renaming and recategorizing them. Let it be something different. Don’t do things with your father unless it brings you joy. It may require that you don't have a relationship with him. If he's not capable of unconditional love, then let him go.

After Marie's inspiring pep talk, I was ready to call him Bob. However, not using the word dad did not come easy. I struggled with this for four months. I could easily say it in front of my friends and mom, who knew what I was working on, but I couldn't bring myself to address him that way. How could I get my younger version of myself and ego out of the way and trust the highest version of myself to step up to the plate? How would I stop these Monday night dinners when everyone looked forward to them except me?

This was the last Monday I would ever ask my kids not to tell the truth, and last Monday, I would not tell the truth to Bob.

The next weekend, before Monday dinner, the highest version of myself grabbed my phone with my partner by my side. Without letting my fear flood in, while holding onto the energy of letting go and being present, I called Bob to tell him the truth. He didn't answer, so I called his wife with the same vibration, motivation, and determination. She didn't answer, but I felt relieved and used my preferred method of communication: texting him.

Me: Hi, Dad. I called you and Nicole to inform you that MK moved in this month.

I love her, and I want to spend my life with her. I would appreciate your continued love and acceptance for both of us.

​Please call back when you have processed this. I love you.

I felt so uneasy that I wanted to rip out my insides. Who was that higher version of myself, and how dare she take over my mind and body? These emotions were mixed with a calming relief. It's insane how a rush of adrenaline can cause many different reactions. Thirty minutes later, I heard the ding of his text message. I grabbed my phone, took a deep breath, and read his response.

Bob: I saw that coming. It might be a while. That’s about as hard as it gets for me. It's God's instructions, not mine. I love you.

Ok, not so bad. Better than I had expected. I spent the day celebrating, notifying all my family, friends, and therapist who supported me in speaking my truth. I came to a resolution that the challenging work had been done. Or so I thought until I received his typed-out Microsoft Word letter six days later.

He responded by informing me that homosexuality isn't normal. Nothing about it works physically, emotionally, or spiritually. Homosexuality is a ruler demon, and we are living in a world where immorality rules. God is specific about this topic, so in asking me to accept your choice, you are asking me to choose homosexuality over God. I can never accept that a lie of the world has blinded my precious, gifted daughter. God's will be one man and one woman. I am disappointed that my grandchildren will never know the truth about a man and a woman being together.

He was saying to me, I choose God over you. You are a disgusting homosexual.

My response back was surprising. It came from the highest version of myself. I told him I respect his beliefs but will never be mine. I chose you to be my father because I knew I would have to learn to eventually stand up for myself, be authentic, and love myself deeply, despite what you want for my life. I no longer need to hold the energetic space of a father for you. I have no expectations of you. I release you from this role. DNA is meaningless. It’s the frequency of the relationship that counts. If you want to learn about the unconditional love of God, I challenge you to accept me for the incredible woman I have become.

His response: Wow. That was a poor decision. I'm not even dead to you. I never was your father. You have chosen poorly. There is no need to answer someone who never existed.

So goodbye, Bob. By letting go, I become powerful and create the life I deserve. I must no longer hide my beautiful, authentic self to make you proud. Most importantly, I have shown my children how incredibly powerful authenticity can be. I will move forward, surrounding myself with people who love me and lift me up. And if you ever want to come back into my life with love and acceptance, you are welcome.