I love my dad, and I don’t want to lose him. But this is the second time he’s done this. The first time already left a scar in my mind. Honestly, I’m not even surprised anymore, but I really trusted him. I thought he felt at least a little bit of remorse when he realized we knew.
Right now, I’m crying so hard I barely have the energy to type. I don’t want my family to fall apart. He has two teenage daughters—how could he do this? I don’t know what to do or who to turn to. My mom and sister just found out today.
Hey, I’m so sorry you’re hurting like this. You’re in the middle of a tornado right now, and nothing about this feels fair or okay—because it’s not. I want you to hear me loud and clear: your dad’s choices are not your fault. His betrayal is his to own, not yours to carry.
Of course you’re devastated. Of course you feel betrayed and exhausted and scared for your family. You loved and trusted him—and he broke that trust. That’s real pain. When someone you look up to makes a mess like this, especially twice, it shakes everything you believe about family and about safety. It makes the ground under your feet feel like it’s disappearing.
I know you don’t want your family to break apart, but here’s the hard truth: you can’t control what happens between your parents. That’s between them. You can’t fix your dad. You can’t carry your mom’s pain or your sister’s, either. All you can do right now is take care of yourself and reach out to people you trust—friends, a counselor, a teacher, maybe even another family member who gets it. You don’t have to go through this alone.
And listen: your feelings—crying, being angry, feeling lost—they’re normal. Let yourself feel them. Write them down, talk about them, punch a pillow, whatever you need. This is grief. It’s heartbreak. It’s okay not to have answers right now.
You’re stronger than you know. This pain is not forever, even if it feels like it is today. You can’t control your dad’s choices, but you get to choose what kind of person you want to be going forward. Take it one hour at a time. Breathe. You are not alone. You matter, and you’re going to get through this.