My Daughter Hates Me: An Epilogue

Does my daughter hate me? Probably not. Honestly, just because something feels true doesn’t make it so. Sometimes I forget. I wrote this series six years ago as an outlet for the feelings of loss and pain I was feeling.  Our daughter was 15 at the time. She is 21 now. I’ve learned there are... Continue Reading →

My Daughter Hates Me: Lastly – Where does it end? (Part 13 of 13)

Knowing all my lessons, my responsibilities and my obligations the lingering question becomes an issue of when to call. When do I reach out and let her know that not a day goes by that I don’t think of her. Do I call at high school graduation, Christmas, birthdays, holidays, weekdays or Mondays? There is... Continue Reading →

My Daughter Hates Me: I wish it were a black-and-white world (Part 12 of 13)

It is not a black-and-white world. Sometimes I wish it were. There are adults who grew up in broken homes and condemn my choices. The truth is they are choosing to paint my reality based on their experiences. I know because people are more than willing to send me an email or tweet and tell me... Continue Reading →

My Daughter Hates Me: Some wrongs can never be fully righted (Part 11 of 13)

For a long time my choices tied my life into a seemingly inescapable Gordian Knot: a knot inadvertently binding those I love (and hated) to a life of chaos and confusion. I tried everything I could think of to untie the knot. Often my best thinking made it worse. "The significant problems we face cannot be... Continue Reading →

My Daughter Hates Me: Perception becomes reality (Part 10 of 13)

Don’t misunderstand – I’m not defending my choices – most of them are beyond defending. However, there is a difference between being defensive and being honest. The former is a result of pride the latter humility. Knowing what I know today I would do most of it differently. But I didn’t know and cannot change... Continue Reading →

My Daughter Hates Me: If a child dies isn’t it the mother’s fault? (Part 9 of 13)

Growing up in the hill country of West Virginia my dad is full of colloquialisms. He is constantly saying things like, “That’s slicker than an eel in a bucket of snot,” or this thing or that is “slower than molasses”. On more than one occasion he has suggested not coming between, “a she-bear and her... Continue Reading →

My Daughter Hates Me: Love requires action (Part 8 of 13)

However, one of the most painful situations arose when Cassie was four. She stopped calling me "Dad" and started calling me "Sean". When asked where she got this from, Cassie said it is what her mother told her to do. She was being taught to call her stepfather “dad”. Now other than my pride and... Continue Reading →

My Daughter Hates Me: Oops! Have I said too much?

Recently, I received this excellent comment from someone baffled by my motives for the thirteen part series entitled "My Daughter Hates Me". She (or he) called me to task for self-aggrandizing and self-promotion what she (or he) considered a publicity seeking sham. Several people who subscribe to my writings graciously responded but I thought it... Continue Reading →

My Daughter Hates Me: The Spaghetti Incident (Part 7 of 13)

Shortly after my separation, I ended up in a softball game against my soon to be ex-wife, Rachel. She really is a beautiful woman – inside and out. Unfortunately, bitterness, suspicion, and jealousy blinded me from many truths. Bile rose to my throat when I stepped into the batters box and saw her standing on... Continue Reading →

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