You Say I’m Not Your Dad? Then Let’s Discuss What I Actually Am
She said it like flipping a light switch: “You’re not my dad.” It didn’t make me mad. It just hollowed me out. Ten years of teaching her to ride a bike, staying up through fevers, attending school plays, bandaging scraped knees, soothing first heartbreaks—and still I was just “Mike.” So I tried something different. I … Read more