Repairing Burnt Bridges

My father and I lost contact when I was 12. We didn’t speak again until I was 23. It was a complicated situation but I never really knew just HOW MUCH his absence affected me until we got back in touch and started mending our relationship. I knew it hurt, and I was so sad and broken hearted. I miss him everyday but I never really understood how much it was taking from my overall happiness. I never wanted to play into the whole “daddy issues” stereotype, but damn if my entire brain hasn’t changed since having him back in my life. I’m softer again. My hard edges finally chipping away to left my kinder self back out. It’s wonderful. I don’t hate love anymore and I don’t hate being loved anymore.