For the daughters and sons who never really had a “dad” – even if he was right there the whole time.

Father’s Day can stir up a lot of emotions. Some people are filled with gratitude, warmth, and happy memories. But for others, this day brings confusion, grief, or even anger — especially for those of us who grew up with a father figure who was physically present but emotionally absent, or worse… emotionally harmful.

Not all wounds leave visible scars.

• Sometimes they show up in the form of constant over-apologizing.
• Sometimes they live in our bones as a fear of being “too much” or “not enough.”
• Sometimes they surface in the quiet, aching hope that maybe, one day, they’ll finally see us, hear us, or understand the impact they had.

For those of us who were raised by men who demanded obedience but never offered protection...

• Who only noticed us when we were in trouble…
• Who belittled us for crying, or punished us when our younger siblings cried too loudly…
• Who required respect but never earned it with love…

This day can be complicated.

It can feel like standing outside a celebration you were never truly invited to.

So what do we do with that?

We honor the truth.

We stop gaslighting ourselves into believing it “wasn’t that bad” just because others had it worse, or because "spankings were normal," or because he "paid the bills."

We recognize that emotional neglect, verbal abuse, and control masked as authority do leave lasting impressions — especially on children who are still learning who they are and what love looks like.

We acknowledge the ache we carried for the father we needed, the one we wanted to love.

And we give ourselves permission to grieve what we never had — without guilt, and without shame.

If you are still in contact with your father, and those patterns continue, you are not obligated to play happy family for the sake of tradition. You’re allowed to protect your peace. You’re allowed to set boundaries. You’re allowed to feel however you feel.

If you’ve chosen estrangement, you’re not heartless. You’re healing.

And if you're somewhere in between — unsure of what to feel today — know that ambivalence is also a valid response. Healing isn't linear, and neither are our relationships with the people who shaped us.

For Those Who Were Hurt by a “Father”

• You deserved gentleness.
• You deserved laughter and presence and someone who held your pain instead of mocking it.
• You deserved guidance, not fear.
• You deserved a safe place to fall, not one more person to walk on eggshells around.

And if you’re a parent yourself now, working hard to undo the cycle — I see you.

• You are the pattern breaker.
• You are the healing voice echoing forward into future generations.
• You are proof that love can be re-learned and re-grown, even when you didn’t have the blueprint.

Journaling Prompt

Reclaim Your Sense of Self on Father’s Day

Take some quiet time for yourself. If you're comfortable, close your eyes and take a few slow, grounding breaths. Let your awareness settle into your body. Let your truth feel safe here.

When you're ready, write freely from your heart. Let the words come without judgment or pressure. Use these guiding reflections to explore what’s present for you today:

1. What does Father’s Day stir up in me emotionally?

• Are there specific memories, sensations, or thoughts that surface?
• Do I feel grief, anger, confusion, numbness… or something else entirely?

2. What did I need from a father that I didn’t receive?

• Think of emotional support, protection, encouragement, safety, connection.
• What might that have felt like if it had been present?

3. How did my father’s presence — or absence — shape how I see myself today?

• Did I feel seen? Protected? Encouraged to be myself?
• Or did I shrink myself, silence my needs, or try to become "easier" to love?

4. What patterns am I ready to release?

• What survival strategies or beliefs (like always saying “sorry,” fearing conflict, or struggling with boundaries) were born in response to that relationship?
• Am I ready to let any of them go?

5. Who or what has helped me feel safe, seen, or fathered in healthy ways?

• This might be someone in your life now, someone from your past, or even your own inner voice.
• What qualities do they embody that feel nourishing?

6. What would it feel like to be the kind of protector, guide, and nurturer I needed back then — for myself now?

• How can I offer that love to the parts of me that are still healing?

7. What do I want Father’s Day to mean for me, if anything, going forward?

• Do I want to reclaim it, redefine it, ignore it, honor it differently?

Place your hand gently over your heart. Whisper or write this phrase (or create your own version):

“To the younger me who needed so much more —

I see you now. I believe you. I will never abandon you again.”

Let this be your space to feel, reclaim, and rise. You don’t have to carry what’s not yours anymore.

With tenderness and support,

Gretchen

SOMATIC TRAUMA SPECIALIST + ENERGETIC INTUITIVE

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