Single Fathers

On Mother’s Day, people celebrate – by nature – mothers. Which is understandable. It’s called Mother’s Day for a reason.

But what about the fathers who were destined to simultaneously take on the roles of both a mother and a father in their children’s lives?

It’s inevitable to find fathers who play this role, especially if the mother is either deceased or simply not present in her children’s lives for whatever reason.

Therefore we shall not forget to address, acknowledge and appreciate those fathers on this special day.

So for the sake of the unsaid words, the daily misunderstandings and the buried feelings, here’s an open letter and a tribute to single fathers on Mother’s Day,

“I know you did not sign up for this. You brought me into this life, thinking you’re going to raise me with another person. Not on your own. But what you did not put into consideration, unfortunately, happened.
I know you don’t mind this. I know you would happily do anything for me, so I wouldn’t feel emotionally lacking or less than anyone.
But I also know it’s hard. No matter how easy you make it seem. You’re torn between offering me the world and working hard to get me everything I ask for, and assuring that I’m emotionally stable and content. All at the same time.
You’re running around in circles trying to figure out how to let me open up to you without feeling embarrassed about my feelings. Or about anything for that matter.
Yes, it’s hard for me too. I don’t always know the right thing to say or whether or not I should tell you about my thoughts. But I do understand that you feel the same. It’s okay. We’re still figuring it out, and we’ll still be figuring it out, until the very last day.
Forgive me if I don’t introduce you to my boyfriend or tell you about the guy I like. I get nervous. Forgive me because I didn’t tell you why I was crying the other day; I didn’t want to worry you.
Forgive me if I don’t entirely involve you in my decisions. If I don’t talk to you about my friends, if I dodge off your advice. It’s not that I don’t trust or need you; I do more than anything. 
I know you doubt my love for you, I know you think I may even fear you. I know the situation is not ideal. I sometimes don’t even know how to feel about mom not being here anymore and about you replacing her, in everything.
I do have fears. But I do not fear you. I fear being a burden on you, I fear for your own mental health. Sometimes I ask myself, how is he handling all of this? How is the world crumbling down around him while he still stands tall?
You’re always here to pick up the pieces, and I know that I don’t always let you. Forgive me. I’m sort of still adjusting. Still getting used to you being everything to me and playing every role in my life.
When I say I want to be alone or left to my thoughts, I don’t mean that I don’t want you here. I need you to understand this. I need you to not second guess or doubt our relationship, because you will always be the person I love the most. And the one I’m forever grateful for.
You believe I don’t even think about your struggles and inner conflicts, but I see them. Clearly. And I want you to know it’s okay. We’ll work through it together. Always.