Ghosting: the act of abruptly ending a personal relationship by ceasing all communication without explanation.
I first encountered the term “ghosting” after separating from my ex-husband. The first guy I dated post-separation seemed fantastic—until he vanished without a word. The pain was real, but I soon learned that the hurt from being ghosted by a casual acquaintance paled in comparison to the anguish I felt when my young son was ghosted by his biological father.
When I left my husband, I was somewhat naïve. I understood that our marriage was plagued by darkness, control, and manipulation, but I held on to the belief that my son was everything to his father. I envisioned a harmonious co-parenting relationship where we both prioritized our child—remarrying and supporting him together. I truly thought that was possible.
That illusion shattered when his father disappeared from my son’s life without a trace.
He did return, only to demand to relinquish his parental rights—a harrowing experience that involved harassment directed at me, my family, and even my lawyer. He chose to walk away, leaving my 5-year-old son in the dark, a child who loved and idolized his “Daddy.”
The following months were pure agony. My son experienced night terrors, waking up screaming for me, thrashing in confusion and fear, repeating “Daddy, don’t go!” It broke my heart to see him like that.
We spent countless hours in therapy, trying to help him process his grief and loss. Each session meant revisiting painful memories and answering difficult questions about the night terrors and his anger. I often stepped into the hallway to cry, overwhelmed by the despair surrounding us.
I developed post-traumatic stress disorder. My anxiety escalated into a panic disorder, leaving me terrified of any ringtone associated with his father. The doorbell ringing sent me into a frenzy, fearing it was him at my doorstep. I had to carry medication just to cope with those moments.
Sadness became my constant companion, not just for me but for my child as well. I remember a day when he asked, “Does Daddy love his girlfriend more than me? Is that why he won’t come around?” How do you explain that to a 5-year-old? It’s heartbreaking that a child should ever have to grapple with such thoughts.
I worked hard to dismantle the walls of resentment my son had built around me, as his father turned friends and family against me. Initially, I ignored their judgments during the divorce, drained of emotional energy, but eventually, they began to see the truth for themselves. I had to navigate a complicated relationship where my son was still embraced by his father’s family, even as his father abandoned him. We’ve since repaired that relationship, but it came with its own challenges, causing immense strain.
I also feared his father would resurface. He had disappeared once before, and on the anniversary of that day, he reappeared, wanting to see our child again. I couldn’t put my son through that emotional rollercoaster a second time.
We prioritized consistency in our lives. His teachers and counselors were informed about the situation, and they were incredibly supportive. They kept me updated on any issues he faced at school, especially following particularly rough nights.
As time went on, my son began to reclaim his childhood joy. My boyfriend, who had been a steady source of support throughout this ordeal, moved in. To our surprise, about six months later, my son started referring to him as “Papa,” and even called him “basically my stepdad.”
We maintained connections with his father’s family, ensuring they remained a part of his life. We lived as we would have, albeit without his father’s presence.
Now, I am much wiser than I was three years ago. In February, exactly one year from the last time his father reached out, I was granted sole custody of my son when a judge terminated his parental rights.
Father’s Day brings its own set of emotions each year. I can’t help but hope that his biological father remembers the incredible boy he abandoned. A boy who is sweet, smart, funny, and resilient.
Fortunately, my son has moved on. He will remember the strong, loving men who filled the void left by his absent father. The ones who play with him, attend his soccer games, and teach him how to fish. He is enveloped in love and support, and he will be alright.
Recently, on our way to his last day of school, he mentioned Father’s Day. He told me they practiced writing cards, saying his card read, “I love my daddy because daddy loves me.” My heart shattered. He had always called his father “Daddy.” But when I suggested we do something for Papa too, he surprised me by saying, “But Momma, Papa is my daddy. The card is for him.”
This experience has taught me so much about resilience and love.
In summary, the journey of healing from the pain of abandonment is long, but my son has found joy and support in those who truly care for him. As we continue to navigate this new chapter, I remain hopeful for his future, surrounded by love and acceptance.