Ghosting: The act of abruptly ceasing all communication in a personal relationship without explanation.
I had never encountered the term “ghosting” until I separated from my ex-husband. The first man I dated after that chapter in my life seemed fantastic—until he vanished without a word. The emotional fallout was painful, but it paled in comparison to the anguish I felt when my young son experienced the same betrayal from his biological father.
When I left my husband, I was somewhat naive. I recognized that our marriage was fraught with darkness, manipulation, and control, yet I clung to the hope that his father would always cherish our son. I envisioned a harmonious co-parenting relationship where we prioritized our child’s needs, remarried, and supported him together. I truly believed that was possible—until the day his father disappeared from our son’s life.
He returned briefly, only to plead for the termination of his parental rights. He harassed not just me but also my family and lawyer, ultimately choosing to ghost a 5-year-old boy who adored his “Daddy.”
The ensuing months were a nightmare. My son suffered from night terrors, screaming for me and thrashing in fear. He would wake up crying, “Daddy, don’t go!” It was heart-wrenching. We found ourselves in countless therapy sessions, trying to help my son process this loss. Each visit meant I had to recount the painful details—his night terrors, his anger, his profound sadness. Often, I would step outside and break down, overwhelmed by the reality of our situation and heartbroken for my sweet boy.
My own mental health deteriorated. I developed post-traumatic stress disorder, and my anxiety spiraled into panic attacks. The sound of a ringtone linked to his father would trigger an overwhelming sense of dread. Even the doorbell sent me into a panic, fearing his father might be at our doorstep. I had to carry medication with me at all times, as I often found myself unable to cope during those moments.
I lived in a constant state of sadness, not just for myself but for my child. I recall a day when he asked, “Does Daddy love his girlfriend more than me? Is that why he won’t come around?” How do you respond to such heartbreaking questions? These are thoughts no 5-year-old should ever have.
I worked tirelessly to dismantle the walls of resentment he had built around me. He had turned many friends and family against me, but eventually, they saw the truth. It was painful navigating a world where my son was still loved by his father’s family but not by his father himself. We’ve since repaired that relationship, and they are back in his life, but it took a toll on all of us.
Then came the fear of his father reappearing. His past vanishing act loomed large, especially with the anniversary of that day approaching. I couldn’t bear the thought of putting my son through that again.
We made every effort to maintain consistency in his life. Teachers and counselors were informed of our situation, and they were incredibly supportive. I communicated openly about his night terrors and any difficulties he faced at school.
As time passed, my son began to heal. My partner of two years, who had been a steady support throughout this ordeal, moved in. To our surprise, he began calling him “Papa” and referred to him as “basically my stepdad.”
Life continued with the same people in our world—his grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends—ensuring he maintained connections with his father’s family while living without his father’s presence.
Today, I’m far less naive than I was three years ago. In February, justice finally prevailed. A judge granted my request to terminate his parental rights, giving me sole custody.
Father’s Day will always bring its own emotional complexities, but each year, I hope his biological father is reminded of the son he abandoned—a remarkable, loving, and resilient boy. My son, however, has moved forward. He’ll remember the men who stepped up to fill the void left by his absent father—the brave, loving ones who swim with him in the summer, attend his soccer games, and teach him how to fish. He is enveloped in love and support and will be alright.
Recently, as we drove to his last day of school, he mentioned Father’s Day. In his gentle voice, he shared that they practiced writing cards. He told me that his card said, “I love my daddy because daddy loves me.” My heart shattered. He had always called his father “Daddy.” I quickly redirected the conversation and suggested we should do something for Papa too since he’s “like a dad.”
Then came the moment that melted away the pain of the last 18 months when my son declared, “But Momma, Papa is my daddy. The card is for him.”
If you’re interested in learning more about similar journeys, check out other insightful posts on our blog, such as this one on the intricacies of home insemination.
In summary, the journey of healing from abandonment has been challenging yet transformative. Through love and support, my son has been able to redefine family and find joy despite his father’s absence.