I didn’t call you this Father’s Day.

Not because I forgot. Not because I was too busy. But because I’ve been holding something inside for years that I’m finally ready to put down.

The truth is, calling you on days like this has never felt easy. It’s always been something I do, not something I feel. I call, I ask how you are, I say happy birthday or happy Father’s Day. But underneath those words is silence—the kind that comes from two people who stopped seeing each other clearly a long time ago.

I’ve carried the weight of wanting something more between us. I used to imagine a version of you who accepted me fully…..your son, queer and proud, doing well in life, building a future that feels true to who I am. I used to hope that one day you’d call me just to ask how I’m doing, without judgment or agenda. Just love.

But that day hasn’t come.

I’ve tried to make peace with the way you see the world, but I can’t ignore how your views, especially your support for people like Trump, go against everything I believe in – everything I am. And the truth is, it’s painful to love someone who supports a world that erases people like me.

You came to this country for a better life. For freedom. But my version of freedom includes being myself without shame. Without pretending. Without having to perform sonship for the sake of appearances.

I didn’t call this year because I needed to honor what’s real for me. And what’s real is that I’m tired of giving energy to something that doesn’t nourish me back. I’m tired of showing up out of guilt. I’m tired of being the one to reach across the distance when you’ve done so little to close it.

I still care. I’m not writing this from hate. I’m writing it from grief. Grief for what we never had. Grief for the kind of father I wish you could’ve been. Grief for all the years I spent trying to earn a love that should’ve been given freely.

This letter isn’t about punishment. It’s about peace. My peace.

So this year, I didn’t call. And for once, I didn’t feel like I betrayed myself by pretending everything was fine.

I don’t know what the future holds for us. But I do know this: I’m learning to love myself in the ways I needed from you. And that love is not conditional. That love tells the truth.

Con cariño,

tu hijo