As a child, I was curious to discover who my father was. Growing up in care, his absence became ‘normal’ for me. At 14, I met the father of my children and had no desire to search for my own father—life simply went on. Later, after separating, fate unexpectedly led me to him. I run my own business, and one day a client arrived. We struck up a conversation, and I mentioned I’d never met my father. He helped me find him in the village where he’d lived all his life. Meeting him at last brought indescribable joy. I made plans with him—trips, chats, little gestures. I’d buy him clothes, indulge him, always paid for everything, feeling a need to make up for lost years. He told me he was alone, his local children wouldn’t let him have a partner, insisting any woman near him wanted only his money. I asked to meet the woman he claimed loved him, and he introduced us—a humble, hardworking lady who genuinely cared. But his children rejected her, insulted her, called the police, and treated her badly at every turn. She confided the reason: my father had houses, land, and money in the bank—and his children blocked anyone getting close, frantic to protect their inheritance. That’s when the whispers began. People said I only appeared to take everything from him. I didn’t even bear his surname, but he insisted I accept it. I didn’t want the trouble, but eventually I agreed, and tensions flared. My bond with my father’s partner only grew stronger. I suggested they marry in secret, and they did. His children’s anger intensified. But I told them he deserved happiness. Their marriage had ups and downs, but one day I invited them both on a trip. Usually it was just me and my father. During the trip, his wife asked how much I’d contribute to expenses; I said nothing, as I’d always covered our trips. That’s when she shook my world: she revealed things weren’t as I thought. My father was always financially comfortable. His children controlled him, wouldn’t let him spend on himself or enjoy life. I’d thought he had little, living in an unfinished house and looking deprived, but others managed his money. From then on, I encouraged him to enjoy what he’d worked for. But he said his children wouldn’t allow it. After the wedding, his wife pressed him to help with household expenses. Every request sparked an argument. Eventually he’d contribute, but only after a row. She confided everything, and I saw her requests as fair. One day, when his wife asked him to buy lunch for her father, he exploded—told her to pay instead, bemoaning the daily requests, and started a fight. I defended her, reminding him how unfair it was to deny someone who cared so much. He replied he was tired of always being asked for money. Then it hit me, painfully: my father was generous with the children who never cared for him and came only for his money, but stingy with the woman who looked after him. Eventually, his marriage ended. Now he lives alone. Supposedly a daughter ‘looks after’ him, but everyone knows he’s supporting her, her husband, and their children. His other kids order him around and he sends them money instantly. But to the woman who stood by him—he always refused. I’m not the same with him anymore. I love him, but it’s different. I no longer invite him on holidays; we rarely talk. If I don’t call, he doesn’t ring. I can’t be who I was. It hurts to admit—finding him once filled me with hope, but now, it’s as if he no longer exists.

You know, when I was a kid I was always curious to find out who my dad was. I grew up in a boarding school and, over time, not having him around just sort of became my normal. Then, when I was fourteen, I met the father of my own children and, honestly, I didnt even bother trying to track down my real dad. Life just carried on, you know?

Later, after splitting up with my partner, things took a turnand almost without looking for him, it was like fate just nudge me in the right direction. Id started my own little business, and one day, this client walked in. We got chatting, and the conversation just flowed so naturally that I ended up telling him Id never met my father. And would you believe it, he actually helped me find him. We tracked him down in this little village where hed lived most of his life.

When I finally met him, I felt something I cant quite put into words. Just immense happiness. I started spending loads of time with himtaking him places, talking on the phone all the time, buying him new clothes and spoiling him a bit. Wed go on little trips together, and Id always pick up the bill, didnt matter if he had any money or not. I always saw him looking a bit dishevelled, sad, lonelyand I felt like I owed him for all those lost years.

Hed tell me he was on his own, with grown-up kids from the village, but that they wouldnt let him see any women because, in their eyes, every woman who went near him must be after his money. I asked him to introduce me to the woman he said he loved, and so he did. She was simple, hard-working, and so kind to himyou could just tell by the way she looked after him. But his children wanted nothing to do with her. They hurled insults, called the police on her, bullied her every chance they got.

When I asked her why all the drama, she told me it was all about moneyhouses, land and a tidy sum in the bank. The kids didnt want anyone close to him in case they lost out on something.

Thats when the rumours started about me as wellthat Id shown up just to take everything from him. Mind you, I didnt even have his surname. He insisted I take it; at first I didnt want the hassle, but he said it was what he wanted, so in the end I agreed. Things only got messier after that. The criticism ramped up, everything became tense.

Funny thing is, my bond with his partner only got stronger. I suggested they get married on the quiet, so they did exactly that. The kids went absolutely mentalat him, at me, at her. I just told them my dad deserves some happiness. Their marriage had its ups and downs, as youd expect, but one day, with them now husband and wife, I invited them on a trip. Usually I just travelled with Dad, just us two. But that time, his wife quietly asked me how much Id pitch in for costs. I told her, honestly, NothingI always pay for everything when Im out with Dad.

Thats when she sat me down and hit me with a big home truth: things werent at all how Id thought. My dad was actually loaded, which is why his kids kept such close tabs on him. Wouldnt let him spend a penny on himselfno clothes, no treats. I always thought he was strapped for cash, since he lived in this half-finished house and looked so hard up, but in reality, other people were controlling his finances.

After that, I tried to encourage him to actually enjoy the things hed worked for. But hed just say his kids wouldnt allow it. After they married, his wife started asking him to chip in around the house, for food, everyday coststhat sort of thing. Every time she asked, hed lose his temper. He did cough up in the end, but not before a big row. Shed tell me about it, and I just thought it was absolutely fair enough.

One day, during a family get-together, his wife asked him to buy lunch for her dad. He had a right go at hertold her to pay for it herself, moaned that it was always the same, kicked up such a fuss. I actually stuck up for her and made him think about itlike, would he have wanted my husband to deny food to my father-in-law? I pointed out it wasnt right to treat the woman who cooks for him, does his washing, and sits by his side so poorly. He just said he was tired of everyone constantly asking him for money for the house.

Thats when the penny finally dropped for me: my father was being stingy with the person who really cared for him, but showered money on the children who only ever had their hands out and never lifted a finger for him.

In the end, his marriage to his wife fell apart. Now he lives alone. Supposedly one daughter looks after him, but lets be realhes supporting her, her partner and their kids. The other children phone him up, boss him around, and he sends off money without a second thought. As for the woman who was actually there for him? She always got nothing.

I just cant be the same with him anymore. I still care about him, but not how I did before. I dont invite him on trips, we barely speak these days. If I dont ring him, he never calls. I cant go back to how things were. Its sad, really, because finding him was such an incredible high at first, and now its like he might as well not exist.