Fuck Father’s Day


For weeks now I’ve been getting emails from every online vendor known to man saying that I should get such and such good deal for my dad on father’s day. The problem is he’s been dead for 16 years, and he was absent from my life for 26 years.

Even before my mom left my dad when I was 8 and moved us from Zachary, LA to LA, CA, the only thing I remember about my dad is beer. That’s all he really did: work, beer, cigarettes. He wasn’t a mean drunk. It was a means to escape. He never hit me or my mom. He never was abusive. He just ignored everything.

Then during high school, my mom wanted me to treat her boyfriend like a father. I didn’t hate him, but I didn’t like him either. Again, he wasn’t abusive or tried to get knees deep in my business. But he wasn’t my father, and I wasn’t going to treat him like such.

So all day on Facebook I’ve seen posts by people loving their daddies and posting pictures of themselves with their daddies and all of this sappy bullshit that makes me want to hurl.

You can have your happiness. I realize other people had it worse than I did. But it doesn’t make me any less bitter.

So fuck father’s day.