Found out I’m not the father and somehow I still miss them both
I honestly never thought I’d be writing something like this, but I genuinely feel broken and I think I just need to get this off my chest.
I’m from the UK and was in a long-distance relationship with a woman from South Africa for almost 2 years. I genuinely loved her deeply and saw a future with her.
Over time she fell pregnant and from the day I found out, I fully stepped into what I believed was becoming a father.
I changed my life around this child.
I travelled between the UK and South Africa, worked extra jobs, spent money on future plans, and even had to go through a whole process with work to spend almost 2 months around the birth because I wanted to physically be there for both her and the baby.
I bought baby items, discussed savings accounts, medical aid, British passport options and future plans. I named her. I bonded with her immediately.
I genuinely loved that little girl.
The relationship itself wasn’t perfect though. We argued a lot. There were trust issues, repeated arguments and a push-pull dynamic. I was often accused of cheating or having a wandering eye even though I genuinely tried to reassure her and make things work.
Eventually the relationship ended and we decided to co-parent instead.
Even after the breakup I still continued showing up because I genuinely believed she was my daughter.
A few days ago I quietly did a DNA test for my own peace of mind while sorting out future plans.
The results confirmed that I’m not the biological father.
Honestly I can’t even explain what that felt like.
I’m not just grieving a relationship. I feel like I’m grieving my daughter too.
The mother later apologised and admitted that after the baby was born she started having doubts but avoided telling me because both families believed I was the father and she was scared.
I’m trying not to hate her because despite everything she has taken accountability and apologised to me and my family.
But I’m struggling.
I’m struggling with the betrayal.
I’m struggling with the idea that there was someone else.
I’m struggling because I still miss both of them.
Part of me still hopes she messages me.
Part of me still misses my little girl.
And another part of me is sitting here asking whether I ever really mattered.
I know people are probably going to tell me to move on, and I understand that, but right now I just feel empty.
I guess I just needed to say it somewhere.