My Dad Kicked Me Out When He Fou
A Teenage Pregnancy, A Broken Family
At 17, I told my father, “Dad… I’m pregnant.” He didn’t yell or cry.
He simply opened the door and said, “Then go. Do it on your own.”
I left with nothing but a duffel bag and the promise to protect my baby.
Raising Liam Alone
The father vanished within weeks. I worked two jobs, raised my son in a rundown apartment, and delivered him with no one in the waiting room.
I named him Liam, and he became my reason to keep going.
A Son’s Choice
On his 18th birthday, Liam said, “I want to meet Grandpa.”
Standing on that same doorstep, he handed my father a slice of cake and said: “I forgive you. Next time I knock, it’ll be as your biggest competitor.”
Unbreakable
In that moment, I realized—where I carried scars, my son carried grace. We weren’t broken. We were unbreakable.
