However, children have a way of teaching you unexpected lessons about patience and love. She started referring to me as “daddy” when she was four years old.
It just happened on its own; I never asked her to. I realized then that biological factors are not always necessary for love to be genuine and significant.
She is currently thirteen years old and negotiating the difficulties of adolescence. Her biological father frequently shows up and disappears from her life. Even though she doesn’t express it, she is aware of the unpredictable nature.
She sent me a straightforward text one evening asking, “Can you pick me up?” No justification, just a silent plea. I didn’t hesitate—I drove straight to her.
She had a tiny bag with her and was calm but exhausted when she got into the car. She said, “Thanks for always coming,” after a few moments of stillness. I know I can rely on you. Those remarks really got to me.
They served as a reminder to me that the real meaning of fatherhood is to be a dependable and consistent presence in a child’s life.
What I already knew—that being a father is about love, commitment, and choice—was reaffirmed that evening. Every pickup, silent discussion, and tiny moment counts. Because I selected her and still choose her every day, she sees me as her father. And she also picked me in exchange.
