My Daughter Hates Me: Part 12 - It is not a black-and-white world. Sometimes I wish it were.

It is not a black-and-white world. Sometimes I wish it were.

I know adults who grew up in broken homes and condemn my choices. They judge me based on their own experiences. Others thank me. I know parents who cry and give me a hug because they understand. They understand how much I love my daughter because I’m willing to sacrifice my “right” for what seems to be in Samantha’s “best” interest based on the circumstances of my relationship with her family. Others scoff and see my choices as cowardice and self-serving.

As I said, I don’t know what is “right”. I did what seemed “best”.

By allowing her to be adopted I did the complete opposite of everything my brain was telling me to do. It was the opposite of selfishness and self-centerdeness. It was an attempt to be honest about the realities of our relationship and change the things I could. Adoption has been the least “easy” choice. By allowing her to be adopted I allowed her the freedom to choose when she is ready to see me. By letting her go I took the most loving action I could manage. It doesn’t seem enough, and it may not be, but at the moment it is all I can do. I’m attempting to act on a level different than the one that created the problem.

Today, I see loving sometimes involves sacrificing what is “right” for me so others can have what is “best” for them. I know Kellie is capable of providing a stable, loving environment. She is capable as long as she doesn’t have to fear me intervening in her “right” because I’m pursuing mine. Nothing I do or say will change how Kellie feels about me. Proper amends are not intended to change how people feel but rather are given as compensation for a wrong. For this reason, most of the time I choose what is “best,” not “easiest” or “right”. My amends are an attempt to sever the Gordian Knot binding all of us to the past.

Of course, as I said earlier, the amends are not about changing Samantha's feelings but perhaps now she will have the freedom to choose.

Recently, I met the mother of one of my former student. In the course of the conversation I discovered she was great friends with my daughter's mother, was Samantha's cheerleader coach for nearly a decade and that Sam grew up two or three doors down. My student's mother had no idea Samantha was adopted. She had no idea Rick was not my daughter's father. Which is good for my daughter and heartbreaking for me.

Perhaps there is a chance my daughter will choose to know me for who I am someday and not be bound to incomplete retellings of outdated stories of who I was - if there were any stories. I may simply be the elephant in the living room no one discusses - I'm the shame and the secret. One hundred years ago they would have shipped Samantha's mom off to visit friends for the summer while she was pregnant - all to avoid the shame on the family. In this case they shipped me off and kept me a secret.

Not a day goes by that I don’t feel her in my heart. I yearn to help her with homework or go for a walk in the woods. I’ve missed all tweleve of her first days of school. It wasn't me that taught her to drive or helped her move into her college dorm. I missed high school prom and all the anxious nights waiting her to come home from a date. I'll miss her college graduation, her wedding and the birth of my grandchildren. There is an endless list of missed opportunities. All I can do is wait and pray she will remember our walks in the woods, The Lion King, and the paddleboats. My hope is she will remember me and doubt enough of what she hears to discover the truth of who I am.

But she may decide never to find out. That is a possible consequence of my choice and I knew it from the beginning. However, today, I have hope and believe everything will work out for the “best”.

Of course, the truth can be painful, which is why most people avoid it. And she may choose to always avoid it. I hope not. Most people don’t really want to know because what they don’t know cannot hurt them. It is always “easiest” to hate. It is always easiest to pretend I don't exist. It is easiest to ignore me. Right now Samantha is pissed - or I imagine she is. I imagine right now she thinks she hates me. I am willing to carry that burden. Of course, she doesn’t really know me and hates only a faded memory someone else has painted for her.

I heard an old man say, “The truth will set you free but first it will piss you off.” When I understood the truth of my character, I was angry and hated myself. That is what led me to the hotel room in Chicago. Then I learned I could change if I was willing to be honest and humble. I matured and realized that my past mistakes could be a strength if I wield it to help instead of hate. If I don’t dwell on it but rather embrace it I can use it to help other men who are struggling through the same barren desert of hopelessness, despair, and fear.

The truth set me free...my hope is it sets her free too.