BECAREFUL, WHAT YOUR MOTHER TOLD YOU ABOUT YOUR FATHER.

 BE CAREFUL WITH WHAT YOUR MOTHER TOLD YOU ABOUT YOUR FATHER

Dear Son, 

Don’t Swallow the Poison Your Mother Feeds You About Me Your Father

If you’re reading this one day, I need you to know something that may be hard to hear.

Not every story told to you about me is the truth.

Not every tear shed in front of you came from a place of love.

And not every warning about me was meant to protect you.

Sometimes, poison comes in a sweet cup.

Your mother may have told you I was angry, selfish, or absent. She may have replayed moments that made me look small in your eyes, until you could no longer see me as the man who first held you and cried.

I know you love her — and you should. She’s your mother. But love should never require you to hate the other parent.

When I tried to lead our home, she called it control. When I disagreed, she called it abuse. When I stood my ground, she called it pride. And little by little, she painted me as the villain in the very life I was building for you.

What she didn’t tell you is how many nights I stayed, even when staying broke me.

How many times I swallowed my pride, so you could have both parents under one roof.

How I worked through sickness, exhaustion, and frustration, not for her, but for you.

But the poison works slowly.

When a child hears only one side long enough, he starts to believe it’s the whole truth.

And when that child grows into a man, he might start thinking only women care, only women sacrifice, only women love without conditions.

That’s how boys grow into men who beg to be loved by women — because they were taught love only comes from the feminine.

Son, I need you to hear me: that is a lie.

A man’s love may be quieter, less dramatic, less shown in tears — but it is steady, sacrificial, and built to last. My love for you is not in my words alone, but in the years I refused to give up on you, even when I was pushed away.

If you ever feel that hole in your heart — that longing for something you can’t name — it’s not a woman you need to fill it. It’s your father’s voice. My voice. The truth I was never allowed to speak to you.

Come to me, son.

Hear my story with your own ears.

Judge me by my fruits, not by her words.

I am not perfect. I have made mistakes. But I never abandoned you. I never stopped loving you. And I will never stop being your father.

Don’t let the poison take root in your heart.

Don’t repeat the mistakes of my youth — giving trust to someone who used it to divide a family.

When you know the truth, you’ll see me for what I’ve always been.

Not the villain.

Not the stranger.

But your dad.

Love,

Your Dad.

Apostle Oyeyemi