Happy father’s day

This moving piece was sent to us by a person who prefers to remain anonymous. That person shares a very personal account of they relationship with they father. Please take this into account when expressing your opinion in the comments section under this article or elsewhere.


Happy Father’s Day, ugh… if there is one thing I don’t want to be celebrating it is your day.

You are not to be celebrated.

You are most probably the number one reason I hate men.

The incarnation of patriarchy, a failed mistaken father: not present, not taking responsibility, and when present expecting us to adapt to you, to your bad mood, to treat you like you were the majesty of the house, “the father”, the role model, the beam of the house.

Actually there is one word that can define who you are: a tourist. Being home when you wanna spit your venom or get your frustrations out on your children or wife, leaving when things get too hard to deal with.

You were so destructive. Everything around you just broke, your aggresivity and unstable behaviors, your way of putting pressure on my mother, spitting on her like she was less than shit, spitting on her dreams of building the perfect big family, breaking her self-esteem every day, all her dreams, her clothes you burned, her friends and social life you destroyed because you are “the men of the house”, who we should not disturb, be unconditionally present or for who we should take a bow. The way you hit her, with your fists, the bruises on her body, the day she tried to commit suicide and every single day she thinks about it, the way you made her crazy and dare to make fun of her in front of her children that she is definitely nuts, telling her 5 years old son that you will cut her in pieces because she deserves it, while she never ever spoke one bad word about you in front of her children.

Her children, her excuse to every time take you back home, because she knows that her sons need their father to look up to. She shows respect and values you and you used it to turn her kids, family and friends against her. That’s you, that’s what I’m supposed to be celebrating today? No way!

Now, I got out of these destructive structures, I have my own family and I grew up. I see all these things you do because you have no values and you cannot be valued, no self-esteem, because you are nobody, you failed in every ways and blame it on us and you got trapped in these destructive gender normative expectations of our society. That’s why you’re trying to destroy others. While we are your family, you have great kids and a wife who is your pillar, she has always tried to hold you up, protect your ass of all the bad tongues, you are the only one who hurts her so deeply…

Today the atomic bomb you developed during all these years through her kids (no, we are not yours), exploded one more time.

Today my brother broke his hand because he went through so much emotions, too much anger in his body and he didn’t know how else to express it than hitting his hand and legs against the wall. Today once more, our hearts are broken, our nights are full of tears. Today once more during the holy month of Ramadan you showed us who you are, leaving the table empty of your presence and full of your arrogance, hurting my mom once more.

But there is this one thing you should know, death is around the corner and your absence will be a peace for some…

I have so much disgust for you, that every time I think of you I want to throw up, but out of respect for my mom’s choices I still behave respectfully towards you.

One thing is sure, my kids will be raised by a father who deserves to be celebrated, a man you dislike because he is showing you how to be a real human being, not just a failed partner.

And no, I didn’t fall in the trap instead I had the power to break the vicious circle, to not fall in love with somebody like you. He is your opposite. I found a husband who loves me in words and deeds, because love is action, not endless meaningless empty words and promises.

He never ever used his hands to hurt me,

he never ever used his words to hurt me,

He showed me love is healing, he showed me it’s possible to be with someone and to be in peace and respected for who I am, to be able to bloom and grow as a person thanks to this loving relationship and environment, something I thought impossible, ‘til we found each other.

He showed me that there are men who can be loving and caring beyond the gender stereotypes, loving and being there and standing up for their children, that there are “father’s”, who deserve to be celebrated.

Happy Father’s Day to all of them.

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