When Sorry Isn’t Enough

(Name Removed), I often wonder

What could have been, had it all been different

Could we have been together, happy and free

If not for the spell that bound me

I wanted to love you just the way you deserved

But her grip held me tight, my thoughts unheard

Our son, I know, has been caught in the fray

Raised just like me, in this bewildering way

You weren’t there to share in the struggle and strife

So how could you expect to play the role of a super dad in this life?

Blinded, like me, by this confounding situation

We both long for a path to liberation

Let these words stand as a testament true

To the love that I wished for, with all of my heart, for you

There are some truths that only time, distance, and healing can reveal.

Writing this poem brought up feelings I haven’t allowed myself to fully sit with in a long time—regret, sadness, and, most importantly, accountability. It’s a piece written to my son’s father, a person I wished I had loved deeply, and someone who didn’t deserve the pain I brought into his life.

For years, I clung to anger and confusion, wrapped up in the chaos of my own trauma. I blamed him, resented him, shut him out—but deep down, it wasn’t really him I was at war with. It was the unhealed parts of myself. Parts that had been shaped by manipulation, fear, and emotional survival. At the time, I didn’t have the tools to see that clearly. I do now.

Therapy and growth have shown me the truth: I was the reason our relationship didn’t work. I know that now. And while that truth is heavy, it’s also freeing. Because recognizing where I went wrong allows me to stop repeating the pattern. It allows me to soften, to own my story, and to be better—for myself, for my son, and for anyone I choose to love moving forward.

To the father of my child—I see you more clearly now than I ever did before. I know you were doing your best, just like I was, in the middle of a storm neither of us asked for. You didn’t deserve the words I said, the walls I built, or the chaos I dragged you through. You deserved kindness, honesty, and partnership. And I am sorry.

This isn’t a plea for reconnection, or a rewrite of the past. It’s a reflection—a testament to how much someone can change when they finally face their truth. I just hope you’re finding peace now. You deserve it.

And maybe, in writing this, I’ve found a little more of my own.

When sorry isn't enough, show it—through actions, growth, and consistency