The day I lost Him was the day my emotional trauma moved in, or at least from what I can remember.

My father loved me, but was caught up in a bad situation and wound up in prison from the time I was 3 till a few months before my 30th bday.

I often times ached with pain and felt lonely, disappointed, empty, heart broken and down-right frustrated. I always felt like a piece of my identity was missing, bouts of depression and anxiety ensued. I missed him most when I got to high school. Seeing and hearing the stories of girls who I thought was really “lucky” to have their dads in their lives. They were definitely better than me I thought. I could also understand more at that point why he wasn’t there. That just angered me even more.

I am writing today, not to give advise or to say some profound statement to make this sound better than what it is.

The reality is, I’m 31 years old, married with a child of my own and I still hurt; I still have my BAD days. Today is one of them.

I write to release the pain that I know one day I will use to my advantage.

Today is a bad day, tomorrow will be better!

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