After a little less than two months of consistently working out, I can say that I’m actually somewhat happy with my body!
I don’t know my biological father. He’s never truly been a part of my life, except for a card or a phone call from prison here and there…
and I’ve always gotten the question “Don’t you wish you knew your dad?” ever since I was about 12 years old. And I really don’t have any desire to know anything about Bill (I don’t call him my dad/father/whatever)
I was blessed with an amazing dad. While I may not be his biological son, he’s always showered me with love and treated me as his own. My dad and I couldn’t be more different than one another physically; he’s a big muscly black man, and I’m the flamboyant Chilean/German mutt. Ever since I was a toddler people have tried to convince he isn’t my dad because we are different races, “you’re not black like him,” “he isn’t your REAL dad.” What people fail to realize is that we’re so alike. I got my caring personality from him. I learned respect from him. I can never repay him for everything that he has given me.
So no. I don’t miss Bill. How could I miss something I never had? And without his absence, I wouldn’t have been blessed with an amazing dad.