As much as I want to hate the hand that I’ve been dealt I cannot. My father has 5 biological children and 2 step-children. I am his biological child; yet, I am the only child that has never heard him say I love you. As a child, I believed that my father’s lack of interest and affection had been my fault so naturally; I tried to resolve the issue. I strived to be someone that my father would be proud to love because I believed that his love would make me happy. I joined every club that my junior high school had to offer and graduated as valedictorian of my class. After walking off of the stage I expected to see my father smiling brightly at me. Instead, I only saw my mother and the empty seat next to her where he should have been. Later, I had confronted my father and asked why he chose to not attend after I had happily gushed about all of my accomplishments at such a young age. It was then that he chose to tell me that it was, in fact, my fault. He then relayed to me at age 13 a statement that I had told him when I was 7 years old; I told him to leave me alone in a classic childhood temper tantrum. It was then I realized that maybe attempting to gain my father’s affection was useless because it was not me, but him who had committed to the twisted relationship that we had. However, I was not ready to give up. I then decided to switch to the opposite end of the spectrum. As I began my freshman year in high school it was then that I decided to purposely miss deadlines and due dates as a tactic to finally receive the attention that I pined for. After utilizing this approach during the entirety of my freshman year I began to comprehend that I would never truly receive the same affection as my brothers and sisters. This moment was truly the first time that I experienced heartbreak. During this segment in my life I had somehow locked myself into my own downward spiral, from which there was nowhere to go but rock bottom. However, I refused to hit rock bottom. I allowed myself to feel shame,