When The Parent Who Left Contacts You On Facebook

Thought Catalog

Growing up, I rarely thought about my birth father. I didn’t want to think about someone that didn’t think about me, someone that could leave my mother, brother, and me alone. When I did think about him, it was in fits of anger: for my mother, and how she struggled to keep us afloat on her own; that maybe our lives would have been better is he was around; that I thought his presence would have somehow made everything okay. My mother did end up remarrying, to someone that was never a father figure to me, but that is another story entirely. My brother was my father figure, but he is absent in my life as well. It’s a reoccurring pattern that I can’t seem to shake.

In 2011, I was 23 and working the front desk of a ritzy salon, scanning the Internet, and I logged onto my Facebook…

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