Being a parent comes with a myriad of challenges. First it comes with what crying for him really means in the first few months, then it hits the terrible two-year-old stage and rises to the troubled teen years and beyond. Each stage of parenting is quite something. Add to the mix of it all having to go it alone as a single parent. This makes it that much more of a struggle and a testament to our strength as parents when it’s all worth it.

And yes, I dared to call the absentee father of my son. There is no better word I can use to better describe what he is to our son. But in case you, the father of our son, read this and have better suggestions of a different word I could use, please feel free to let me know. But just so you know, I won’t hold my breath.

Yes, we got in the most controversial way that could only spell trouble if we ever ended up having anything to do with each other, and yes, you knew I never wanted anything to do with what could become of the two of us, but you he got away with words. You eventually got me where you wanted me to be. And even though I knew it was so wrong, I still played along. We had our things on and off whenever we wanted. I reached a point and walked away. Little did I know that I had left with this blessing that is my son inside of me.

I hated you Growing up I had dreams of getting a good education, finding a good job and a good man to start with. One with whom he would form a beautiful family. So here I was, expectant and in denial that I had ended up pregnant with your child and had not considered sharing a future with you. For this, I hated you so much. I wish I woke up to the news that something strange has happened to you so that your memory is erased forever. I was so blinded by rage that all I did was dwell on the fact that I hated you so much. Keep in mind that I wasn’t mad at you for what you and I weren’t going to be, I was mad at you for my son. I was angry that one day my son will ask hard questions. And I will have no choice but to give you answers.

I don’t know exactly when all the hate disappeared. I cannot identify any specific situation that led to the pain going away. It was just a mix of blurry days and events that led me to pity you for the beautiful moment of raising our son that you were missing and finally getting to a point where I could forgive you. After all, I left you, I CHOSE to end us, but you are the only one abandoning our son. You are the one who has never made an effort to be the father of our child. And I just realized that I pity you. I have had the honor of seeing the first all of him. I’m the one he cries for when he hurts. I’m the one you’re excited to see at the end of the day. I am the one he looks so deeply into the eyes as a sign of gratitude for who I am in his life. You are missing everything. And I pity you. You don’t even know how sweet he is and how loving he is. He is the sweetest being, and let’s face it, he gets it all from me.

I forgive the fact that we are not raising him together. I was forced to grow up, to put myself in order. I was thrown into a world where I was awake most of the day, ecstatic to buy a new sippy cup, and making plans for my and our son’s future. I forgive the fact that you are a shitty person because it has made me a better mother. I love him twice as much and I will give twice as much to make up for everything you lack. Every day I wake up and I hope to get better for him. I have something to look forward to because of him, and he has a lifetime ahead of him with endless possibilities and limited disappointment due to your absence from his life.

I feel sad about the inevitable feelings of sadness and doubt that he will have about himself because of you. My only goal is for him to have a happy life, and I don’t think I could have given it to him if you were a part of it. I will make him understand that he has a father in heaven who is there for him and loves him unconditionally. I know you’ll probably never read this, but if you do, thank you for my son. He is the love of my life, and without you, it wouldn’t be him. I pity you for not experiencing the greatness that he is, and I forgive you for the privilege of raising him alone. Please don’t confuse this with excusing the fact that my son doesn’t have a father. I don’t forgive this, and I’m sure he won’t either. That is something you have to live with and you will have to face it as your life nears the end. I hope he tortures you like he tortured me before he released you. I pray that in the not too distant future, God will bless us with the father figure that he and I deserve.