Father’s Day hit me differently this year.
I reached out to my dad—again. Hoping for reconciliation. Hoping, maybe this time, he would see me. Hear me. Acknowledge how his absence affected me. I wanted connection, even a sliver of understanding.
But what I got was… deflection. Or worse—dismissal.
He defaulted to the same response:
“You’re dwelling on the past.”
“You’re being unforgiving.”
And I sat there—hurt all over again. Not because his words were new, but because they weren’t. It’s the same cycle: I open my heart, and it gets misunderstood. Mischaracterized. Minimized. Silenced
And the more I reflect, the more I see the deeper pain under the surface:
My dad doesn’t seem to believe I’m good unless I agree with him.
Unless my words are filtered through his expectations.
Unless my boundaries are comfortable for him.
My value, in his eyes, has always seemed conditional—measured by my compliance, not by my heart.
And as his daughter, that’s a devastating message to receive.
It tells me: You’re only lovable when you perform. When you please. When you don’t push back.
But I’m not a child anymore.
And I’ve learned that love—real love—isn’t performance-based. It doesn’t withhold affection when you speak hard truths. It doesn’t punish you for your pain.
Yet still, I try. Because the little girl in me still wants to be seen. Loved. Chosen.
But today, I felt convicted—not condemned, but gently corrected. Because the truth is: I’ve been fighting a battle that isn’t mine to win.
The Bible says,
“The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” —Exodus 14:14
Stillness has never come easy for me. It feels like giving up. Like closing the door. But maybe stillness isn’t silence. Maybe stillness is trust. Maybe it’s handing over what’s too heavy for my heart to carry.
Because my need to be validated by my father has kept me tied to a place of disappointment. And while I don’t believe in giving up on people, I do believe in giving them to God.
There’s a difference between leaving the door open and standing outside of it in the rain.
So today, I’m stepping back. Not out of anger. Not out of pride. But out of obedience.
I’ve done my part. I’ve spoken my truth. I’ve extended grace. Now, it’s about trusting the One who sees it all, heals it all, and understands the ache of a father wound better than anyone.
To the one who’s tried and been hurt again:
You are not weak for feeling.
You are not unforgiving for remembering.
You are not wrong for hoping.
AND you are allowed to stop chasing.
Let God fight the battle your heart was never meant to carry alone.
Scripture Reflection:
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” —Psalm 34:18
#FathersDay #HealingTheFatherWound #ChristianHealing #LetGodFight #FaithAndBoundaries
#EmotionalHealing #AdultChildHealing #StillnessIsTrust