'You treated me like a bag you had to carry once a month': A letter to my narcissistic dad.

The author of this story is known to Mamamia but has chosen to remain anonymous for privacy reasons.

Dad, 

One of my favourite memories as a kid is of us at the well in Kings Park, singing "I can sing a rainbow". I remember how frustrated I'd get at you when we sang the line, "I can sing a rainbow, sing a rainbow, sing a rainbow too" and you would say 'three' instead of 'too'. As a kid, and a teenager, I loved that memory. Now, it fills my chest with this heavy weight. Every time I think of you, I feel this weight like someone is sitting on my chest. 

When you are in my dreams, I lose my words. As I sleep, I clench my jaw and grind my teeth. The pain that has stemmed from our relationship fills my body and has caused lasting damage. Cracked teeth, panic attacks, lack of confidence, poor decisions, anxiety and depression.

As a kid, all I wanted was family. I wanted to be loved, and I had so much love to give. I tried so hard over the years to give my love, even though I never quite felt comfortable in your family. When a lot of our time together was marred by your conversations about your hurt from Mum's betrayal, I really struggled to enjoy our time together. I wonder if that's why you took me to the movies all the time? So, we didn't have to talk?

Over the years I got more and more anxious before every visit. I just wasn't comfortable. I didn't feel like your daughter. I was like a bag you had to carry around one weekend a month. You took me to work meetings and girlfriends houses where I slept on their couches or spare beds.

Your life always seemed so chaotic. Even when you knew you were picking me up, you never made room in the car for me until the last minute. I had never had 'my room' in your house. Even after you remarried and settled into a home, you never gave me my room. I was always a visitor... never part of the family.

Watch: Some signs that you were raised by a narcissistic parent. Post continues after video.

When I grew up and moved state, I used to test you. I'd stop calling you and wait to see how long it took you to call me. Six... seven months would go by with nothing. I'd literally speak to you once a year. I was gone for seven years and while I visited you when I returned on holidays, not once did you visit me. 

After the breakdown of my marriage (to a man more like you than I realised) I returned home. I tried so hard to build my family again. Now that I was in the same city as everyone, I wanted to be part of a big family because I had been isolated from everyone for so long. I tried so hard... but no one else did. Once again, my plans to see you were often cancelled last minute because you had commitments you couldn't get out of. 

One day though, we had organised lunch. You could only do a certain time, so I asked colleagues to change lunch breaks with me. I went out for my lunch break and waited for you... and I waited. You never came. I missed my lunch and went back to work. When I got through to you, you made all sorts of excuses but not once did you apologise. You had stood me up, left me waiting and let me down. After years of being emotionally and verbally abused by my ex, I was fed up with people letting me down and walking all over me. I wanted an apology, but you refused to give me one. You weren't sorry. You were angry that I was upset at you, but you weren't sorry. For once, I wasn't going to back down though. 

The things that came after this day were hurtful for us both. I told you some home truths. You blamed me for everything. I am your daughter, your child, yet you blamed for not making enough effort in our relationship. It's been 13 years now. I don't remember everything that was said, but I do remember that. I remember your anger and your refusal to apologise even though it meant you would lose me. You never fought for me.

I bumped into you once at work. I remember surprising myself by running up to you and saying hello. That was your in. That was me opening the door. But you didn't take it. 

The same when your sister came over from the UK and we went out for lunch. I told her I would be ok if you came. But you refused to come unless I invited you myself. You just couldn't meet me halfway. 

My step family begged me to forgive you. I wonder if they begged you to apologise to me? I learnt a lot later that you had betrayed them in the most awful way. That you had completely turned their lives upside down. 

While you refused to talk to me, I was building my family. I met a beautiful man who treated me with so much love and respect. We got married, drama free. There was no way I wanted a repeat of my first wedding which you turned into an event that was all about you. You were so angry that I had also asked my step dad to give me away. What you didn't know was that I only wanted him to give me away. After all, he was the man who raised me. He coached my team sports; he watched my school assemblies; he picked me up in the middle of the night and disciplined me. But still, I asked you too because you made me. You were my father and I couldn't deny you of that fatherly job. So, I had both of my dads give me away, but that wasn't good enough for you. Despite being told well in advance what my plans were – that you and my step Dad would give me away, and Mum would do the speech – you threw a tantrum and walked out of my wedding reception when Mum talked. You were such a child. 

My second wedding was perfect. We eloped with just our immediate family. My step Dad gave me away. You know I call him Dad. Dad gave me away. He totally deserved that right.

Now, I'm married and I am a mum. You have two incredible grandchildren who I know you are very aware of. Yet, you've never made an effort to meet them. Not that I'd let you. You have to prove you can be a father before you can be a grandfather. 

When I turned 40, I asked my dad why he had never adopted me. He said he always wanted to but didn't out of respect for you. I asked him to. He raised me and he has stood by me for almost 40 years. He was absolutely my dad. As part of the adoption process, he had to inform you it was happening. You had no say in the matter but legally you had to be informed. 

Did you know, I had nightmares for months? That you would be banging on the door wanting to stop it. Of course, you never came. You didn't fight it. Not once.

But you did go to Mum's house. You did beg them to tell me the real story about your marriage breakup. Because you think that if they tell me they were lying, that I will forgive you and everything will be fixed.

In all this time you still haven't worked out that I don't care. I never cared. I don't care who left who or who hurt who. At the end of the day, you were both my parents, and I just wanted you to love me. I didn't want to have to choose sides. I tried so hard not to. But you constantly pushed me away. 

Listen to The Quicky where we take a look at different family dynamics, and hear from someone who had to make the difficult decision to break off one of the most important relationships in her life. Post continues below.

I just wanted you to love me. To fight for me. I am your only daughter and you never fought for me. You just let me go.

My son has your hair. I used to shave it off because I couldn't stand to see you in him. I felt like an awful mum. A feature that everyone else thought was so beautiful filled me with anxiety and dread. I see so much of you in him. I hope with all hope, that nurture is stronger than nature because I don't want him to turn out like you.

Now, I embrace those curls. He let him be him, and I have found help for me. Help to work through the years of pain you have caused me. The rejection. As a Mum, I cannot imagine how a parent can just let their child go. How they couldn't fight to keep that relationship. How could you not? What was so wrong with me? Was I not worth loving? 

I am still so damaged. I don't want to be. I don't want to let you continue to hurt me after all these years. I want to be free of this pain, of these tears. You are like a big dark cloud hanging over me. Sometimes I don't notice it, but then it comes in and covers my world for months on end. You invade my dreams and create so much tension, even though you refuse to have anything to do with me.

I'm not sure what I'd say if you reached out to me today. I know for certain that I am better off without you in my life. And, I am positive you will have nothing to do with my children.

But, still... at 44 years old, I am a little girl who wants her dad to love her. That's all.

Feature Image: Getty.