A netizen shared how he found out that the children that he has been raising are not his, but the product of his wife’s affairs.
Here is the story:
They’re not my kids, and not my problem.
About a month ago, I found out both of my children where the results of my soon-to-be-ex-wife’s affairs. I’ve had a feeling for a while now that both of them were not mine.
6 years ago when my son was born, I was the happiest I had been in my entire life. I had married my best friend, we had a child together, and everything seemed amazing.
That was until he started getting older. After a few years, I started to have doubts that he was actually mine. He did not look like my child.
The more he started to grow, the more I realized just how different he looked compared to what I would expect a child of mine to look like. I am not petty or paranoid enough to let that alone drive me. It was my wife that really set my alarms off.
Whenever she went out, she never went where she said she did. She would have huge holes in her schedule she could never explain to me, she would refuse to allow me to interact with anyone from her workplace, and a close friend of hers accused her of flirting with her s/o at the time.
It did not help that soon after our son was born, her lies started to catch up with her. Still, though, I loved her like the fool I was. She told me up and down how much she loved me whenever one of her lies caught up with her.
She had convinced me that despite the fact she was a lying and manipulative woman, she wasn’t a lying manipulative b—-.
Last year, she got pregnant again, and I still held out a small bit of hope that it was mine. But when her daughter was born, it was obvious she was mixed race. I refused to sign the birth certificate, and the paternity test I demanded afterward proved my suspicions right all along. Neither of them are mine.
The day I got those test results were the day I filed for divorce from that s— and walked away from the family I had created. I knew that it would destroy her son’s life to see me walkout.
Despite my concerns, I was the best dad I could be to him. I loved him with all my heart and put in 110% into being the father he deserved.
Now though, when I see him I am filled with disgust. Disgust for my wife, disgust with myself for not trusting my instincts, and disgust that the last 6 years of my life have been for nothing. I have been told by multiple people now that I am a monster for leaving “my son” like this.
My ex has tried on multiple occasions since I moved out to use him to guilt me into getting back with her. She will have him call me at random hours of the night crying and begging for “his daddy” to come back.
The day I moved out, she paraded him into the room as I packed my things to show me “how much damage I am doing.” In every conversation that he is brought up, both online and off, I am berated and shamed. That despite the fact I am not the boys’ biological father, I am his dad.
What I have sadly now realized is that, to most, my own feelings mean nothing. My parents are my only supporters through all this, with my own siblings calling me a despicable person for abandoning a child like that.
My feelings of betrayal and sadness mean nothing because a child is involved. I know it is not his fault. I know that the man he called his father for his entire life just walked away, But why am I expected to “man up?”
Why should I have to pretend everything is fine and I do not feel contempt for this entire situation. Why should I put my own life and feelings aside? I never was the boys’ father, I loved him like one and honestly still do; but I would come to hate and contempt him if I had to play that role.
Hate myself for not standing up and taking my own life back into my own hands. He is not my child, and even though it is not his fault, he is not my problem anymore.
