Sorry if this ends up being quite long!
My parents were married but, when my mum fell pregnant, he left her. I never met him (he died a couple of years ago, when I was about 35).
My mum made sure to keep in touch with his whole family because her view was that, just because he didn't want a relationship with me, I shouldn't be deprived of my grandparents, aunties/uncles and cousins on his side.
I was an only child to a single mother and I had a great childhood. There was definitely a stigma at that time (mid-1980s) of being an "unmarried mother". And I know we struggled financially - he always claimed to be unemployed so that he didn't have to pay any maintenance. My mum shielded me from as much of that as she could. But I definitely remember watering down the milk and cutting mouldy bits off the bread. On the other hand, my best Christmas memory is of my mum having made my Barbie doll a whole wardrobe full of outfits using just offcuts/clothes I had grown out of. I still well up a little at the memory.
I never wished he was around because I knew he was not a good person but I did used to wonder if, when he was asked if he had any children, whether he would mention me and say, but I'm not in touch with her, or words to that effect, or if he just pretended I didn't exist.
The only time I have ever felt his absence was when one of my best friends got married. When she appeared in the doorway arm-in-arm with her beaming dad, I felt a very sharp pain that literally took my breath away. It took me some to time to come to the realisation that I felt a very alien feeling of pity for my dad that he would never have that with me. I got married a few years later; my mum gave me away and it was fabulous!
He always lived in the same town as us. As I said, I regularly saw his entire family but he was never present.
About two years after I was born, he went on to have a son with his next partner (who already had a daughter who was only one year older than me) and, although he split from that lady, he always maintained contact with his son and stepdaughter. - I have never met either of them.
I used to hate him. A lot. Then I became completely indifferent to him. When he died, I felt pity that he had missed his chance to be involved in my life (because I'm pretty great actually
).
I felt an enormous rush of rage (possibly decades of supressed rage) when I read his obituary in the local paper and it listed his three children as: his stepdaughter, son and then me - with my name spelled wrong!! I even considered going to the undertakers to ask if they could take my name out of any eulogies that were planned but I decided just to let it go in the end. Needless to say, I didn't attend his funeral.
Which is a very long way of saying, I turned out fine having been raised by a single mum with zero input from him. He would not have been a positive influence on my life and I feel that I have an extremely strong bond with my mum as a result of it always being just the two of us. I also know that, should anything bad happen between my husband and I, that I am more than capable of raising my children alone. I feel like that is quite a freeing position. I know I am with my husband because he is a good man and I love him, rather than through any kind of fear of being alone.
I told you it would end up being a long one 