My mom is a SMC, a Single Mom by Choice, (emphasis on “choice” because it was her Plan A). I do not know my dad from Adam; he is a stranger to me even though his blood courses through my veins and his eyes stare back at me in the mirror.

To my mom:

You wanted me, or should I say a baby, so very badly. I have no doubt about that. Having gone through infertility, I understand the primal, all consuming desire to have a baby. Being “wanted” made me feel special at times. (“Wow, look at all my mom went through to have me!”) But, being “wanted” can sometimes feel like a curse, like I was created to make you happy, my rights be damned. I’d be lying if I said I never felt commodified. My experience as a DCP (donor conceived person) has made me realize that, sometimes, the most ethical thing to do is to not satisfy a want. When I hear how much you wanted me, I cannot also help but think about how my dad did not want me. He knew the goal of his actions was to create a child he would have nothing to do with. Do you understand how that can hurt? That your want is cancelled out by his lack of it?

Despite your limited resources, you provided for me as best as you could. You sacrificed for me as I grew up, and showed me love. Do you understand though that children crave and deserve the love and support of BOTH of their parents? Did you honestly believe that fathers do not matter? That you could be my everything? Now that I am married and have my own children, part of me is jealous that my children have what I did not. At the same time, I am overjoyed that they do.

You were always honest with me from the start about how I came to be. You answered my questions with age appropriate answers, and have helped me search for my dad. I appreciate that more than you will ever know.

One can be happy to be alive and disapprove of how they came to be. If I could write my own story, I would not have chosen this for myself. I believe that I, as a human being, deserved better.

I do not think you meant to hurt me. I believe you acted out of ignorance, or at least that is what I hope is the case.

I forgive your poor choices and love you in spite of them. I hope that people can learn from them and do better.

To my dad:

Please come find me! I’ve been searching for you my whole life. Your presence has been greatly missed. You are very important to me. I am not hard to find. All you must do is look.

But, do you even want to look? Do you even think about me or consider me a child? Was I nothing more to you than what you were paid? What was your motivation for “donating”? Did you not care about whether I would be raised in a good home?

Just as I am willing to forgive my mom, I am willing to forgive you. Let’s make up the time that we lost. It’s the least you can do.

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