Family estrangement: Why my dad cut contact with me

As told to Ann DeGrey.

My parents' divorce hit me very hard. I was eighteen at the time and didn't see it coming.

There were no major fights and they both seemed pretty happy in my eyes. But then, out of the blue, my dad made a very calm announcement that they were separating. I couldn't believe it!

My mum was crying and my brother Adam* and I were in shock; we were completely blindsided. We had no idea their relationship had been rocky, or that our dad was miserable and wanted to leave. Looking back now, I realise he did a great job of hiding it.

That was his way — calm on the surface, but secretive underneath.

After the divorce, he slowly drifted from our lives. At first there were visits and phone calls, but over time, he stopped making much of an effort. I tried to stay connected in my early twenties, but it was always one-sided. Eventually, I stopped reaching out too. What was the point of staying in touch with a father who no longer cared?

Watch: How to support someone going through a separation or divorce. Post continues after video.

Video via Instagram/@thedivorcehub.

Mum never badmouthed him. She was more sad than angry. It wasn't until recently that she admitted she'd always suspected he'd had affairs during the marriage. I didn't press her for details because I think part of me didn't want to know. Then one day, as I was scrolling through Facebook on my lunch break, I saw something that made me stop dead in my tracks.

An old friend had posted a photo album from a wedding she'd attended. The bride looked familiar; not someone I knew, but someone I'd seen tagged before. I clicked through the photos and there, in the middle of the album, was my dad. He was dressed in a suit with a big smile on his face, placing a ring on the woman's finger.

He'd gotten married… and he never told us.

I was absolutely gob-smacked but I kept scrolling. There were two teenagers in matching outfits; clearly his new stepchildren. And the biggest shock of all: the bride was visibly pregnant. A caption under one photo read, "Couldn't be happier for these two lovebirds with a baby on the way!"

I just started at my screen with my mouth wide open. Right away, I sent the photos to Adam with no comment. His reply came in seconds: "WTF is that Dad? Are you kidding me?"

We had no idea he was even seeing someone. No heads-up, no phone call. He'd started a whole new family, and we were just supposed to find out like this on social media, like we were very distant acquaintances.

I messaged him later that day. All I wrote was: "Saw the wedding photos. Congratulations."

He replied: "Thanks! I meant to call you, but things have been hectic. Hope you and Adam are good."

That was it. There was no apology and absolutely no explanation. He was acting as though we were old colleagues, not his children.

When I asked Mum about it, she said she'd known he was seeing someone but tried to block it out of her mind. Well, I wish she had passed the information onto her children so we didn't have to experience that shock.

I don't know what I was expecting; maybe an honest conversation. Adam was furious and refused to reach out to Dad at all. I could tell it hit him even harder than it hit me.

It's not really about the wedding. It's about being kept in the dark, again. He didn't just move on, he cut us out completely. And now that his new wife is expecting, it's like we never existed.

What makes it harder is remembering how confident he always was. As a kid, I admired that about him. He was very vivacious and always knew how to make everyone laugh. But now I see it differently; that confidence was arrogance. He believed he could do whatever he wanted and no one would question it.

Mum told me he was always chasing the "next big thing," and in this period of his life, it was about a younger wife, two step kids and a new baby. What hurts the most is knowing that we weren't even worth a phone call.

That said, when the baby arrives, I will welcome him with open arms, and I'd like to meet my Dad's stepkids too. They're innocent in all of this. I may never have a relationship with their mother, or even with my dad again, but I won't hold a grudge against children. If anything, I feel sorry for them. I know what it's like to grow up with such a distant, cocky father.

In many ways, I feel like I'm grieving; not for someone who died, but for someone who abandoned his family and never really bothered to look back at what he left behind.

*Name has been changed for privacy.

The author of this story is known to Mamamia but remained anonymous for privacy purposes.

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