Dear Wordfather,
Six years. Six years without my daughter. Six years in which the silence between us has grown into a gap that no words seem able to bridge anymore. Six years in which I have asked myself how this could have happened—how a mother and her child could drift so far apart. But I already know the answer. And you know it too.
Loss of contact does not just happen. It is not a natural phenomenon, not an inevitable course of life. It is the result of choices. Not only hers, but yours as well. You may not have physically taken her away from me, but you did reinforce the idea that distance was the best solution. You did not stop her when she erased me from her life. In fact, you gave her the words and the conviction to do so.
You may feel that you have done nothing wrong, but that is exactly the problem. Because doing nothing is also a choice. And in this case, doing nothing was just as harmful as actively contributing.
I have tried to reach you. Not once, but again and again. I have emailed you, appealed to your responsibility as a father, tried to make you see the impact of this situation—not only on me, but on her, on our son, on the family caught in between. And what have you done? You remained silent. Again and again.
The most painful part is that by doing so, you confirm exactly what I wrote in my last message—that ignoring is a pattern. That you would rather act as if nothing is wrong than face what is truly happening. But know this: your silence does not erase the truth.
Our daughter will grow up knowing that there was a mother who searched for her, who never forgot her, who never let go of her—even if it had to be from a distance. And she will know that you were the one who confirmed her belief that I no longer had a place in her life.
This is not an attempt to convince you. We are past that point. This is a record of facts. I am not writing these words in the hope that you will finally respond. I am writing them so that they exist—black on white—so that no one can ever say I stayed silent, that I did not fight, that I did not search for her.
I write them for myself.
For our children.
For the truth.
Esmee de Roudtke ❤️
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