Have you grown up without a father? Making? How do you cope with this? Is it a gem or just fine?

I grew up without a father but with two parents.I’m very practical so I’ve always seen it as ‘ a complete set ‘ and haven’t experienced it as a gem. It may also be that my mother had told me that I came from a donor and that there was no real thing to look for. For me it was a given. I came from the couch. I found that fact weird, I mean money at the bank that I know, but babies??? Apparently they are saving them there too;)

Later It turned out that this was not true and that fact was brought to me in a very unfortunate way.One night back from a party, my mother told in a drunken mood ‘ I know your father and you also have a halfbrother ‘. That given changed little to me, but was the last thing my wire-hanging band with my mother needed to break. At that time my conclusion was 100% round-that man is not to be trusted (there were a whole bunch of other things in advance).

Later I met my father and he told me a bit more about how and what.It was nice to meet him, everything my mother did not understand to me that he understood all too well. So instead of a lack that was a welcome addition. Of course he is for me just a man, because a father band I have not met him. We didn’t need that either. We know each other now. It helped me (extra) to learn (there) know myself and I’m glad I had that opportunity. Furthermore, we don’t really see each other, but that’s not crazy either, we’ve never been in each other’s lives and we both find it just fine. My father also does not like obligations;)

What I find most peculiar, my husband also noticed, that now I know my father, he is also used as an excuse.”I do not understand that, you will have your father.” says my mother. “How Low Can you go” I think to myself and immediately I think ‘ your inability is your greatest curse ‘. I know she feels guilty, another time she started pushing again, “have you spoken to him yet?” She wanted the bond between us to be good, at least she said not, because she can’t. Our band is fine as he is, but she found that he had to bother me.
Do you see the projection?

My father died after a long illness, I was 11. The answer lies in the question: a lack of course, and missing something is never fine unless toothache.

No, the late father, a modest, silent, very hardworking, socially feeling man, in his time the top ophthalmologist of Indonesia, worked 6 days in the week after being hospitalized very early in the morning around 6h30, before the tropical heat in the non Cooled Operatue Room struck, with great approval of the OK staff, having performed eye surgery, came around 8:30 for his breakfast at home, then starting at 9 o’clock at home to his practice, first to 6 o’clock evening or later, later on Mother’s insistence 芒 鈧?艗maar芒 鈧?to 3 hours 芒 鈧?虄noon, hereafter read a lot of medical literature, writing articles about his ophthalmic virological research which he also did at his simple lab in the hospital, I helped him later with the typing out his articles , I with ten fingers, he did it with two….He spoke little with us, therefore came a bit distant, but was always available to answer our questions. He was more of a scattered professor type, later also a professor of ophthalmology at a medical phase at the private Trisakti University in Jakarta. All daily affairs were settled by the late mother. He thought it was fine. No real lack, we did not know better, so was our life as a family of a much sought-after busy medical specialist.

In Our family later, when I came home 5 days a week between 8 and 10 o’clock evening of work, it was also so arranged: my wife developed into our plenipotentiary Minister of General Affairs, I saw the children especially 芒 鈧劉 Sochtends for my work , I made them their breakfast, brought my wife her coffee on bed, brought them to school and went to work afterwards, 15 minutes later than my measurements.The weekends were, at and after training, almost 100% for our family. I did not do research, but read a lot of medical journals, so our previously also doctor daughter is hours me mainly. Also our now 30 + year old children assure us that they had never felt anything to have missed… also they did not know better.

No, my father was always near when I grew up.Yet I felt like I grew up without a father. He was actually always busy with his business or absent in his mind.

In the rare moments he was present, he was completely in his own world.He was optimistic, enthusiastic, complimenting and encouraging. However, because he was in his own world, I did not let those compliments come in.

In My early childhood I found little of it.It wasn’t a gem because I didn’t know better, and I didn’t liked it because I didn’t know any worse. That was just the situation.

Later I found it annoying, a lack, but still I didn’t know what I missed.How did I deal with it? I drew more to my mother, brother and sister.

Only when he was suddenly in a very difficult situation for me, I knew what I had missed my childhood.At first it was very fine, but later that also hurt to realize what I had missed and how my life could have looked better.

When I think of those who really had no father or worse, an abusing (in any sense), I feel compassion for them and gratitude for both my parents.

I grew up without a father, who was absent from my 8th, about, at which time he brought us (me and my 2 older brothers) back to my mother and he almost literally said, “This was the last time we saw the Elaar; I don’t pick you up anymore. “

In The beginning I was sad: how can a father say to his children?

Then I became angry: How did he have the guts to say such a thing!?

Then I cherished a resentment against him, and I did not allow him to be part of my life anymore.

Eventually-only when I was mid 30, some 6芒 鈧?”7 years ago now-I realized the devastating influence of what had happened: not only of what he had done, but also of how I had responded.

My whole life was greatly influenced by this, but I had never wanted to face it psychologically and mentally.The consequence was that I never felt good enough: not good enough to have friends, not good enough to be loved, not good gonoeg for whatever. Although he had made the decision, I felt knowingly responsible-as if I were just so bad that he could not even want me in his life. It took me quite some time to process this and to see that this was not a minus fault.

Before I reached this point, he died by, if I am not mistaken, cystic fibrosis.At that time I did not feel sorry for him, nor did he want to see him. My eldest brother did contact him and asked on behalf of our Father if I wanted to contact-tried to persuade me-but I refused. I was still too full of anger and pain.

In retrospect I regret it because that would probably have helped me to process all of this, but in the end I managed to do it in a different way.

That actually also led to my divorce, since I had until then never had the balls to cope with my ex, to be abandoned for fear-and to feel like I was not good enough.

Eventually I understood that it was not healthy for me to stay with my ex for fear of this, in paats of because I loved her, which was not the case at the time.

I also realised that I had never really loved her, but had only used her, to my great regret, to fill a void that no one except myself could fill up.

When I had processed my trauma, I started to come up for myself.That led to many strubblings and that led to my divorce.

Two flies-two liberations-in one blow.

I have a father, and a mother.

My father died last year so no I am not grown up without father

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