My 18th birthday should have been a milestone, but it turned into a day of deep disappointment. My dad, who left when I was eight, promised he’d try to attend my small celebration, but instead, he chose a fishing trip with friends. As the party went on, I kept hoping he’d show up. When I finally called him, all I got was a casual, “Happy birthday! I’m out on the lake with the guys. I’ll catch you later, okay?”
His absence hurt deeply, reminding me of how I’d always longed for his attention. A week later, he called as if nothing had happened and offered me a gift—a fishing rod. “We can go fishing together sometime!” he said, oblivious to the pain this caused. The rod symbolized the very thing that had taken him away from me.
I finally realized, “I couldn’t keep chasing after someone who couldn’t be there for me.” So, I decided to focus on those who truly cared—my mom, my friends, and myself. Over time, I learned that my worth wasn’t tied to my dad’s attention. I found strength in the love and support around me, accepting that sometimes people won’t be what you need them to be—and that’s okay.
The fishing rod still sits in my closet, untouched. It reminds me not of what I lost, but of what I gained—self-respect, resilience, and the ability to let go of what I can’t change.
