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While growing up I didn’t realize that I missed a dad in my life. I was just a kid growing up in the environment that surrounded me. My grandmother was caring for me and there were always aunts and uncles coming and going. I was about twenty-four when I decided I wanted to meet my dad. I was still a member of the church and around this time. After looking towards the pastor and yearning for the attention a father would give to his son, I felt like I needed to know my real dad. Having not realized that I had missed a father in my life to becoming a man who was like a boy yearning for that fatherly attention and affection, I was driven to move forward with this.
I had known an uncle, my dad’s brother, who was a Sherriff’s Dept. bounty hunter. I ran into him a few times while I was in the streets and we’d always have a brief chat. My dad was never mentioned. I decided to start there. After going to see him and asking if he knew where my father was he introduced me to an aunt and she became my connection to my dad.
My aunt told me that my dad lived in Arizona. He had been stationed there in the Air Force and retired there. Thanksgiving 1995 I went to my grandparents’ house. While there I was looking at the pictures of the family on the wall in the living room. I saw my dad with his four kids, but there was another picture that kind of shook me. It was my dad’s high school graduation picture. Essentially it was my face hanging on that wall. I couldn’t stop staring at it and throughout the rest of the night I would steal a glance every chance that I got. I was amazed at the resemblance, the common features.
Even though my dad wasn’t a part of my childhood, I also recall not accepting the offer to call another man dad. My mom was married for a brief time. I lived with my mother and her husband in Delaware. I was about five at the time, and as far as I can remember I liked him and he liked me. He treated me nice, like a son. He once said that I could call him dad if I’d like to, but I knew then that he wasn’t my dad and I wasn’t going to call him dad. It was like I had some innate knowledge of real dads versus other men or step-dads.
I think that I’ve carried that thought with me into adulthood. It’s not that I don’t believe in the idea, rather, I don’t see it as an automatic happening simply because one picks up a new partner. There are times when that new partner is truly operating in the role of a parent because for any number of reasons the biological parent isn’t in the picture. You can see my view doesn’t follow traditional step-parent protocol. As it has to do with me, I am a very active dad in my girls’ lives, so I feel as though there is no need for a step-parent in the traditional sense. However, I will admit that I felt threatened by the presence of a new man in my children’s lives. I felt like I was losing them, and Ana was selfishly moving them into a new family unit. And truth be told I didn’t only feel threatened by the new man, I also felt threatened by people I didn’t even know such as his parents and siblings. I felt like they’d reinforce this stepdad thing and force it upon my girls. I was alone and I was scared and I was angry. Even after Ana and I worked out the custody agreement I still held on to my fears. Any time there was a hint of it I’d be sure to make my feelings known to Ana. I was attempting to dictate the rules regarding our girls and pushing my feelings about step-parenting on her. For me, it has remained a touchy subject, but I’ve gotten better with the role that Ana’s husband plays.

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