I Dated My Father Without Him Knowing It

I Dated My Father Without Him Knowing It

I know what I’m about to say will sound unbelievable, maybe even disgusting to some — but it’s my truth. I dated my own father for three years without him knowing that I was his daughter.

It all started when I was in varsity. Growing up, I always knew who my dad was. My mom told me his name, where he stayed, and even showed me old pictures of him. But he never knew me. He lived in Pretoria, and we were in the Vaal. I tried reaching out to him many times as I grew older — sometimes he’d answer, sometimes he’d change numbers and disappear.

After years of trying, I gave up. My mom was very sick and couldn’t work. We lived on small grants and whatever help we could get. By the time I reached varsity, things were bad. I was hungry most nights, struggling to keep up with studies and fees.

One night, I searched for him on Facebook — just to see how he was doing. To my shock, he looked happy, rich, and well taken care of. Expensive cars, luxury trips, branded clothes. And that’s when something inside me broke. I realized he had everything, while his blood — his child — was sleeping hungry.

I created a fake Facebook account. I didn’t use my real name, of course. I sent him a friend request, and within minutes, he accepted. That’s how it began. Our chats started simple — compliments, jokes, random talks — then they grew deeper. He started flirting, and I played along.

Before long, we were “dating.” He called me his girlfriend. He spoiled me with money, gifts, and everything I had wished for growing up. But the cost was heavy. He wanted pictures — private ones. He wanted video calls. I hated every second of it, but I pretended to enjoy it. I told myself I was just getting back what he owed me — years of pain, rejection, and struggle.

He always said I reminded him of his late mother and sister — my grandmother and aunt. It made me feel cold inside, knowing how close he unknowingly was to the truth.

For three years, I lived this lie. He loved me deeply, and I let him. When I graduated, he promised to move me to Pretoria so we could start a life together. That’s when I decided it was time.

I told him I was doing a school project about “family DNA” and needed a sample from him. He laughed, said anything for me, and agreed. A few weeks later, I handed him the envelope — inside was the DNA test result.

He opened it right in front of me. His face froze. He didn’t even speak — just stared at me like I was a ghost.

That was the last time I ever saw him.

Sometimes I feel like I got revenge. Other times, I feel like I cursed myself forever. Because now, even with money, a degree, and a new life — I still feel dirty inside. Like I crossed a line that can never be erased.

I dated my dad for three years. And I don’t think I’ll ever forgive either of us. I hope wherever he is he lives in shame that I had to entertain him in a. Inappropriate way for him to take care of me.