Ryder’s 18th birthday was supposed to be a day of excitement and celebration. But instead, it turned into a day of disappointment when his father chose a fishing trip with friends over spending time with him. Little did Ryder know, this would lead him to a new understanding about life.
Let me introduce myself—I’m Ryder, and I recently turned 18. Before I get into what happened on my birthday, I want to give you a bit of background about my life. Everything was pretty normal until I turned seven. That’s when my parents started arguing a lot. I didn’t fully understand what was going on, but I could feel the tension.
By the time I was eight, my dad was gone. I remember the day like it was yesterday. My mom sat me down, looking serious but trying to stay calm. “Ryder, sweetie, your father won’t be living with us anymore. But you can still see him whenever you want, okay?” she said gently.
My heart started racing. “But why, Mom? Did I do something wrong?” I asked, my voice shaking.
Mom’s eyes filled with tears, but she forced a smile. “Oh no, honey, you didn’t do anything wrong. This isn’t your fault at all.”
“Then why is Dad leaving?” I asked, desperate for an answer that made sense.
She took a deep breath. “Well, sometimes grown-ups just can’t live together anymore. Your dad and I tried really hard to make things work, but sometimes things just don’t turn out the way we hope.”
“Can’t you try harder?” I pleaded, not ready to accept what she was saying.
She hugged me tightly. “We did try, Ryder. For a long time. But sometimes, the kindest thing we can do is to live apart. Your dad and I will always love you, and that won’t ever change. We just won’t be living in the same house anymore.” And just like that, my parents were divorced.
After the divorce, Mom got a job as an elementary school teacher. She worked really hard to take care of me, and I’ll always be thankful for that. But my dad? He started fading from my life, becoming like a ghost. He was always busy with work, hanging out with his friends, and especially fishing.
Every weekend, he’d disappear to go fishing, even when Mom reminded him that I’d be visiting. Even though he wasn’t around much, a part of me still craved his attention. I wanted him to notice me, to be proud of me. So, I spent years trying to win his approval, hoping that one day he’d realize how much I needed him. But I was wrong.
As my 18th birthday got closer, I thought maybe this time would be different. Turning 18 is a big deal, right? I planned a small party with Mom and a few close friends. I even texted Dad about it, and his reply gave me hope: “Sounds great! I’ll try to be there.”
The day finally came, and Mom went all out—she decorated the house, baked my favorite cake, and even surprised me with a new guitar I’d been dreaming about for months. Friends started arriving, and soon the house was filled with laughter and excitement. But as the hours passed, there was still no sign of Dad.
I kept checking my phone, hoping for a message, but nothing came. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and decided to call him. When he finally answered, I could hear the sound of waves and people talking in the background.
“Dad, it’s my birthday,” I said, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice.
“Oh, right. Happy birthday!” he replied casually. “I’m out on the lake with the guys. I’ll catch you later, okay?”
I hung up the phone, feeling tears fill my eyes. I rushed to my room and shut the door, trying to hold back my emotions. Mom found me sitting on my bed, my head down. She sat beside me and put her arm around my shoulders. “I’m so sorry, honey. You know how he is.”
“I know,” I whispered, trying to stay strong, but inside, I was falling apart.
The days after my birthday were a blur. I acted like everything was fine, but deep down, I felt invisible. Dad’s absence made me feel like I wasn’t important to him. Then, a week later, Dad called, acting like nothing had happened.
“Hey, I got you a gift,” he said. “Want to come over and get it?”
Part of me wanted to tell him to forget it, but another part of me still clung to that tiny bit of hope. So, I agreed. When I arrived at his house, he greeted me with a smile and handed me a long, wrapped package. As I unwrapped it, my heart sank—it was a fishing rod.
“What do you think?” he asked proudly. “We can go fishing together sometime!”
The fishing rod wasn’t just a gift; it was a reminder of all the times he wasn’t there for me, a symbol of the very thing that took him away from me.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said, forcing a smile. “It’s… great.”
He didn’t seem to notice how I really felt. “I figured it was time you learned the ropes. You’ll have fun!” He then suggested we go fishing the next weekend, but I knew I couldn’t keep pretending everything was okay.
“I… I can’t come next weekend, Dad,” I said. “I’ve got plans with Mom.”
He frowned for a moment but then smiled again. “No worries, we’ll find another time.” But deep down, I knew we wouldn’t, and for the first time, I was okay with that.
As I left his house, holding the fishing rod, I realized it was time to let go of the dream I had of us being close. I couldn’t keep chasing after someone who couldn’t be there for me. Over the next few months, I focused on the people who truly cared about me—my mom, my friends, and most importantly, myself.
I threw myself into my music, practicing guitar for hours, and started helping Mom more around the house. I was so grateful for everything she had done for me.
One evening, as we were doing dishes together, Mom asked, “Have you heard from your father lately?”
“Nah, but it’s okay. I’m done waiting for him to show up,” I replied.
She looked at me with a mix of sadness and understanding. “I’m sorry it turned out this way, Ryder. I always hoped…”
“I know, Mom,” I said, hugging her. “But I’ve got you, and that’s more than enough.”
As time went on, I learned that my worth wasn’t tied to my dad’s attention. I found strength in the love and support around me and realized that sometimes people won’t be what you need them to be—and that’s okay.
The fishing rod still sits in my closet, untouched. But now, it’s not a symbol of what I lost; it’s a reminder of what I gained—self-respect, resilience, and the power to let go of what I can’t change.
So, what would you have done if you were in my place?
Share your thoughts in the comments down below!