Existence

I was probably eight or nine when I was first introduced to him. He was big (or so it seemed), dark, and had pearly whites.

My mother asked, "Do you want these?" "Who is this," I asked. "That's your father." To this day, you can still see the word Dad written in pencil on the back of one of the two pictures I have of him.

I remember after she left the room, I had this sunken feeling. Quite honestly, I didn't know "fathers" existed. The neighborhood kids would talk about their fathers or dads, but I never saw them, and it never made me question where mine was. I was always a happy child (or so it seems), in her own world, doing her own thing.

While frolicking through Best Buy, looking for video games for the PC, I saw my mom talking to a man (but it didn't phase me) and when she met back up with me, she said, "He knows your father!" And I quickly looked to where I last saw the man, and I asked my mom who, and she brushed it off and said, "He's gone now."

One day, while getting my hair done (around the age of 14), my hairdresser at the time was going through a divorce. The shop was pretty much closed. I was sitting in the chair, probably getting twists and curls. I remember being there with two other women, one that had a daughter that was a few years younger than I was, and my mother. My hairdresser was venting about her divorce and so forth, and then, my mother says, "When I was going through my divorce..." I immediately blurted out, "YOU WERE MARRIED?!" All conversation ceased after that!

Since that time, I have asked at every birthday, every Christmas, and every day in between to meet this infamous man that is considered to be my father. I especially questioned his existence when my mother supposedly calculated how much he owed in back child support. I was around 16. I remember that specifically, because I kept telling her, "You know I'm about to start college in two years! Find him!"

About three years ago, while holding a conversation with my mom during Spring Break, she randomly blurts out, "Oh, by the way, your father is in Temple Hills, MD." I looked at her like, "Really?" I continued my story and it was as if she didn't say anything to me at all!

Now, I've said my first words, walked for the first time, graduated from Kindergarten, gone to 3 elementary schools and 2 middle schools, completed High School, and now...GRADUATED FROM COLLEGE! I have yet to meet this man, Barry Sealie*. I have told almost every friend, Googled his name and any name close to his from where he supposedly resided prior to his college years, called numbers that were disconnected...I even sent an email to the Montel Williams show when I was younger.

I finally concluded, despite my mother not trying to provide me with information about him or what happened, and him never contacting me (to my knowledge), that I am nonexistent. I am a piece of matter (gas to be exact-just floating around) on this Earth and that's it! I have never been taken into consideration (or so it seems) when it comes to knowing my family history. I find this very disappointing. Regardless of how the two of you feel about one another, I should come first. I think it's the most selfish thing...depriving your child from someone or something because you think that's it's best.

Oh, and believe, my mother knows how I feel about the issue. I've expressed it to her more than once. I don't want to be mad at him, because I don't know him to be mad. And whenever she talked down of him, I would defend him, because I don't know him. I don't feel that I am asking for too much. I just sometimes feel that my existence is a figment of their imagination.




*contrary to what is mentioned in the header, this is his real name