Dad is not there, but he exists

Jennifer was an only child. He never knew anything about his father. He abandoned her when she was very little. His mother was a Colombian with a "very strong" character. Perhaps that is why she stood out as a primary school teacher in a renowned school in Caracas.

They lived alone. But at home, freedom did not exist. Many rules were followed, and Jennifer's decision-making power was almost non-existent. "I couldn't even move a pot," he remembers. In the midst of so much repression, the predictable happened: rebellion exploded.

Jennifer, after barely finishing high school, refused to enroll in college. On the contrary, she threw herself into sabbaticals and “la vida loca” selling earrings and bracelets (made by her) all over the Central Coast beaches.

She was incredibly talented with her hands, but inconsistent. However, during that period of sun and sand, there were also some attempts to get back on track: craft courses, others in baking, more formal jobs.

Between one madness and the other, the years went by. Suddenly Jennifer was approaching 35 and the so-called "maternal instinct" began to manifest itself. In addition, she was convinced that he was going to "leave the train" soon. He wanted a son and he wanted him now.

So, he brought it up with his partner or the closest thing he had to that, a hippie with whom he had only been with a couple of weeks. Very adventurous and all, but the guy immediately rejected his proposal. "I don't want that, I hardly know you, I'm not ready," he answered firmly.  

However, she was not going to give up. So one night - which seemed "any night" but coincided with her ovulation day - in the middle of a party, she tried to get her boyfriend to drink more than necessary and she will indulge in a passionate encounter without protection.

The plan (hers, of course) went perfectly. The encounter resulted in a pot belly. The boyfriend, after the initial bewilderment and annoyance, was willing to try. So they rented a small apartment and lived together for a couple of months, long enough to realize that they didn't know or bear anything about each other.

Fights were the order of the day. So the hippie grabbed his pots and left. Jennifer was left alone with her belly and had no choice but to return to her strict and now very annoying mother, who this time tightened the nuts even more: “If you want to go back, you need a formal job and I already got you one at school. It's up to you".

She was left with no choice but to accept her mother's offer and start working as an initial education assistant. Between that and being a single mother, the time to invent is over. When she was just adjusting to her new dynamics, her mother became seriously ill. Jennifer and her son were left absolutely alone.

Then, without noticing how or when, she began to be as suffocating as her mother. In fact, she enrolled him in a very expensive bilingual school for upper-class children, where her son never felt comfortable. Today, entering adolescence, he feels frustrated and full of the same despair that perhaps she used to feel, but does not remember.

In addition, the boy does not stop wondering who and where his father is, a man Jennifer did not know more about, as if the earth had swallowed him. She avoids giving him details, she doesn't have them. Nor does he have a pretty story to tell.

But, without a doubt, the situation worsened when, after more than thirteen years of exclusive dedication, it occurred to this woman to try her luck in love again. His son did not accept it. The rebellion grew stronger. They are not understood, they are hardly heard.  

Psychologists, with whom Jennifer has spoken, claim that her son has a mass of misdirected rage. A mix between having dealt with the departure of his grandmother, the character of his mother, the absence of a father figure and his difficulty in establishing social relationships with children similar to him.

Early relationships seem to define us. In one way or another, in the first years of life, people learn self-worth based on the messages that our mother or father figures give us. Ergo, abandonment is not a good sign.

Today Jennifer believes that although the biological train was moving away, perhaps she should not have acted as it did. In the end, she didn't have the slightest notion of what being a mother would entail. He just wanted to be different from his and inadvertently became his photocopy.  

Tell me your story, write it as it may, together we shape and share it. Spread the different forms of love, it is always necessary: [email protected]



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