In my teens, almost every man I dated was just like my father. They never really put much effort into our relationship, and I was always left wondering where I stood, always going above and beyond to try to earn their attention. My ex-fiance, for example, was cold and distant. Instead of walking away, I made it my mission to try to fix him in the hope that he would be the partner I had always wanted.

Now I realise how unhealed I was. As I grew older, I felt more resentment towards my mother than my father. I told myself she was the single one and there were plenty of men out there who were single, so I felt justified in directing my anger towards her.

As a result of my upbringing, I am more concerned about cheating than the average person. I think it is a terrible thing to do and I judge people who are unfaithful especially harshly. I tend to judge these people even more if these affairs lead to children being born outside of marriage. The person who has cheated has no idea how much generational trauma they are creating. I know what it’s like to struggle with my identity as a result of my birth – issues with abandonment, rejection and not feeling good enough still occur, even though I’m doing the work in therapy.

I strongly believe that if people aren’t happy in relationships, they should just leave. As a result of my birth, I approach relationships with a sense of fear. I’m scared that what happened to my mother will happen to me and I find it difficult to trust men – something that has intensified since my father’s passing. In the back of my mind, I’ll always wonder if they have a secret life. I don’t know what it’s like to have a man show up for me fully. How I came into the world has affected how I view other relationships as well. For example, I’m always surprised when people do nice things for me or are there for me. Sometimes I don’t feel like I deserve good things because of how I came to be. I find it difficult to trust people. I’m quite introverted. I’m scared to get too close to people because of my issues with abandonment and rejection.

In the later years of my dad’s life, he split his time between Africa and the UK. Sometimes, when he came to the UK, he would reach out, but not always. It was difficult to reach him. His wife had a habit of always changing their phone number if she suspected we had it. When I learned he’d been unwell during the Covid-19 pandemic, I decided I wanted to reach out to him. Asking relatives who knew him for his number was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Even though I had distanced myself from my father, I still felt disappointment towards him. He neglected his responsibilities and didn’t hold himself accountable. He didn’t fight to have my brother and me in his life, and that’s what hurts me the most. You can’t make a wrong right, but you can own your decisions so that other people don’t have to suffer.

“I’m the child of an affair – now I’m in my 30s, this is how it still affects my relationships”