I am actually a long-time TN fan who wishes to remain anonymous due to the personal nature of this particular problem. Apologies in advance for the length.

My dad left when I was four years old, moved away, and, as a result of his absence, I’ve never been very close to him. My few attempts at having a relationship with him were frustrating and unsatisfying; he disappointed me on countless occasions, saying he’d be there for this or that and failing, promising something and not coming through…but if I started listing all of the problems that I’ve had with him, we’d be here all week, so suffice to say, I finally decided that I wanted nothing to do with him.

In my early twenties, against my own better judgment, I was coerced by him into going to family counseling because he’d decided that he wanted to “work things out” and “have a relationship.” I compromised personal values and promises I’d made to myself — namely, to never let him pressure me — and took part in over a year of counseling sessions with him. The counseling itself wasn’t all bad (I actually started going on my own, and working out a number of personal issues), but the relationship with my father, in my eyes, wasn’t improved all that much. I tried my best to develop an adult friendship with my dad (which, I communicated clearly, was one of my unbending personal standards; at 23, I didn’t need a man to insert himself into my life and be Daddy); I spent time with him, talked with him, and made considerable effort to get to know him and understand him. But he kept ignoring my personal boundaries and values, trying to parent me, making demands, and behaving in a very selfish manner. He complained that I didn’t value his side of the family, but when his mother died and willed me her engagement ring and a special picture of her that I loved, he took both from me, claiming he wanted to have the ring appraised and make copies of the picture. You think I ever saw those things again? He…heck, again, if I started listing examples…

My biggest issue with Dad is that he doesn’t know me as a person, has never made an effort to know me, and, despite my compromising myself to help him know me (because he said it was what he wanted), he still refuses to recognize the person I am. His actions, time and again, clearly reflect this. From discouraging my pursuit of my own educational and career goals (because he wanted me to come work in his video store), to repeatedly telling me different stories rationalizing why he left and didn’t do this or that throughout my childhood, to just plain not hearing me when I communicate my own feelings and thoughts (after listening patiently and repeatedly to “his side” of things), my dad has revealed himself to be a very selfish individual.

When I got married several years ago, my husband and I had a very personal, spiritual wedding ceremony. I chose (again, out of strong personal beliefs) to not be “given away” by anyone; as an adult woman who’d been living on her own and supporting herself for years, it felt wrong to do so. I especially felt being “given away” by a father who’d been all but a nonentity in my life would be a truly hypocritical gesture on my part. I suspected Dad might have problems with my choice — I was truly concerned about not hurting his feelings — and I explained to him over a year before the wedding that this was a personal decision, but that I wasn’t excluding him or my stepmother in any way. I hoped to pick out a special song to dance to with him (one of the only things we have in common is a love of music, and I thought this was a personal and unique way of including him, creating an opportunity to spend time together). Dad said repeatedly that he was fine with this. Of course, the poo hit three days before the wedding, when he began saying he needed to “talk” to me. With a 300-mile round trip and countless pre-wedding appointments, NOW he needed to talk? Again, discounting my wishes and values, he forced the issue by showing up when I was on the way to an appointment, and gave me some thinly-veiled speech about “not knowing what [his] role in the wedding is.” “Is this about giving me away?” I asked him. “No, no,” he insisted, and launched into some spiel about everything that was wrong with the wedding, from me and the groom hyphenating our last names, to the fact that he was “humiliated” because he wasn’t “included” in the wedding. Um? After not even taking the time to help me choose a song for us to dance to, after not renting his tux, making copies of family photos for the reception, coming through with his many promises of money, or even ASKING me ONCE how the wedding planning was going for over a year, or, especially, even making an effort to get to know his future son-in-law, NOW he “didn’t know” what his role in the wedding was and didn’t feel “involved”? Bullshit, Don Vito.

Dad spent the whole wedding pouting and telling everyone it was the “worst day of [his] life,” insisting that his not giving me away was some kind of personal vindication on my part.

I wrote Daddy Dearest off after that debacle. I told him, in no uncertain terms, that I didn’t give third chances, and he’d already used up his quota. Why would I want to maintain a relationship with someone who had no respect for my feelings and values? Heck, I didn’t like him, nor did I like the person I was when I was with him. Why, because of some biological quirk, would I still subject myself to a relationship that was 100 percent unfulfilling, problematic, and required I subjugate all my very hard-won personal ethics?

In the years since I cut Dad out, it has been pure bliss to not have to deal with him. But every so often, he pops up again, forwarding me some schlocky mass email or sending me a token gift which, again, reveal his refusal to see me for who and what I am. (He continues to think I am some cutsey-poo girl-woman who, in his own words, “will be happy as long as she has a book and a kitty-cat”…despite my repeatedly pointing out that for him to NOT see me as who I really am is the biggest roadblock in our relationship. He insists he doesn’t have to alter his view of me because “you’ll always be my baby.” Dude, I stopped being your “baby” when I was four. Where were you when I really WAS your “baby?” Get over it.) A few times, he’s done typically Dad-like boundary-trodding things, like, say, sticking a camera in my face and taking a picture of me when I was sobbing at my aunt’s funeral a year ago and then pretending not to understand that I would find such a thing offensive.

Last week, tired after yet another stupid, sappy mass-email, I blocked his email address. He immediately mailed me from a newly-created account: “I find it so ironic (and very sad and hurtful) that you would block me from sending you any mail after I sent you that beautiful prayer. You, who was brought up as a Christian. Don’t worry, I won’t ‘bother’ you so don’t bother blocking this screen name.” God. So I told him to shove it.

He (despite saying he wouldn’t “bother” me), created ANOTHER account and emailed me AGAIN, with such quintessentially Daddy things like “And why do you think that EVERYTHING I do—as it concerns you—is a manipulation or guilt trip? Why would I want to do that to my own blood?!!! How does it BENEFIT me? What is my gain in doing that?” I mean, if Don Non-Corleone can’t see the irony in THAT statement…?

Dad doesn’t even recognize that his actions are heavy-handed, manipulative, ineffective, and, especially, personally offensive to me. I’ve told him repeatedly that I will NOT, under ANY circumstances, have a relationship with him…I will NOT compromise myself and my values by being involved in a personally destructive relationship like that again. No. No. No. I’ve written letters. I’ve asked nicely. I’ve ignored him. I’ve told my stepmother that I don’t want anything to do with him. Yet he still keeps forcing himself at me.

I’ve grown well past the point where I feel that my emotional security is threatened by him, but that doesn’t mean I want to or should have to deal with him and his demands. The last thing I want to do is have to take legal action, but if he won’t listen to me, my brother, my mother, or his own wife about leaving me alone, what other choices do I have?

Sincerely,
Certainly No Sofia Coppola