As a parent, I encounter the “daddy question” on a weekly basis. Initially, this inquiry caused me a great deal of discomfort. I felt immense pressure to provide a flawless answer, fearing that any misstep might lead to lasting emotional repercussions for my children. The thought of attending family therapy years later to explain my inability to answer the “daddy question” was daunting.
However, time has shifted my perspective. I’ve come to realize that there are numerous other reasons my children might need therapy, and this question no longer ranks among my top concerns. Now, I have several responses prepared, with my favorite being, “It takes time to find someone special enough to be your daddy.”
When my children were younger, they lacked an understanding of the complexities surrounding this question. They likely assumed I could simply select a father figure from a store and bring him home. As they have matured to the age of six, they now grasp the intricacies involved, including the notion that a mother and father should love one another. This understanding has led them to take on the role of matchmakers.
Last year, my son excitedly informed me that his friend had an uncle with a beard, a jeep, and a jet pack—a combination he deemed ideal for a father. I found the jet pack intriguing but decided to let that one go.
Just this past weekend, my children attempted to set me up with a local juggler. My son was convinced that having a juggling father would elevate his status among his peers. He even crafted an elaborate narrative about the excitement of introducing his new dad. My daughter was equally enthusiastic. I felt immense relief when the juggler didn’t show up at our church event, as I could easily imagine my kids yelling, “Do you want to marry my mommy?” in the midst of his act.
While my kids may be a bit insistent, I can’t deny that after five years of single parenthood, I might be perceived as a lost cause. I empathize with other single mothers striving to balance family life with social or dating opportunities—it’s no easy feat. Unfortunately, I face an additional challenge that cannot be resolved with a well-organized calendar and reliable babysitting: my past experiences leave me questioning my capacity to open my heart to a new partner.
This contemplation has been a recurring theme for me. I know I am capable of love; I have two extraordinary children whom I adore unconditionally, and I’ve established trustworthy relationships in my professional life. However, intimacy presents a different challenge, often resurfacing old wounds. To be fair, intimacy can be difficult for anyone who has experienced significant trauma.
Some friends find my single status perplexing, questioning why I remain unattached. A few even jokingly suggest that I might be a lesbian, reflecting a societal notion that women cannot choose to be single. I did, at one point, consider exploring a same-sex relationship, believing it might be easier given my history. Yet, I ultimately recognized that a healthy relationship, regardless of gender, demands trust and an open heart—along with a healthy dose of reality, influenced by various factors, including David Beckham’s underwear commercials.
Thus, for the time being, I continue to wait. I actively work on my ability to trust and remain open to new connections. I practice saying no to unsuitable individuals, standing firm in my newfound sense of self and voice. I cultivate patience and acceptance of my current situation, remaining hopeful that one day, I will be ready to say yes.
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Summary
The author discusses the frequent inquiries from children about father figures, reflecting on her evolving responses and her journey as a single parent. While initially apprehensive about the implications of these questions, she now embraces the complexities of love and trust. The narrative highlights the challenges of single motherhood and the pursuit of personal growth and readiness for future relationships.