A Movie, a Memory, and the Little Girl I Wish I Could Hug

The other night, I watched The Life List on Netflix.

It wasn’t even the main plot that got me—it was just a side moment, easy to miss—but it cracked something open in me that I didn’t even realize still needed healing.

The Scene That Stopped Me

There’s a part in the movie where a young, vibrant girl finds out the man who raised her isn’t her biological father.

She meets her real dad, and he tells her he used to drive by her house when she was little. He says he once saw her being spun around in the yard by her stepdad and assumed she was happy.

She responds:

“That couldn’t be my dad—he would never do that.”Because in her mind, he had always been the villain.

Then he says something that made me pause the screen:

“There are facts, and then there’s what’s true.”

Yes, he was her biological father.But the man who showed up, who stayed, who raised her—that was her real dad in every way that counts.

Later, he sings a song he wrote for her. They connect.He invites her to breakfast the next morning.

She goes back to her hotel room, full of hope, picks out the cutest outfit...

And he doesn’t show up.

That Scene Broke Something in Me

Not because I miss my biological dad—I don’t.But because it brought me right back to a part of my own story that I’ve never really shared.

My Truth

I found out around age 12 or 13 that the man I called “Dad” wasn’t biologically mine.

That’s a heavy truth for a kid to carry.

I smiled through it.I kept my feelings tucked away.I acted like I was okay.

But years later, I got the chance to meet my biological dad.He was kind. We connected. And for the first time, I allowed myself to think:

“Maybe he really does want a relationship with me.”

Even more magical? I met my little sisters for the first time.They were sweet, giggly, adorable.

I grew up with brothers, so being a big sister felt like a dream come true.

I felt this instant love for them.I imagined birthdays. Sleepovers. Inside jokes.Maybe even making up for lost time.

But after that visit...

Nothing.

He Left Again

I watched from the sidelines as he showed up fully for his other daughters.

He was the kind of dad I had always wished he could be for me.

And that stung more than anything.

It wasn’t about missing him—I had my real dad: the one who raised me.

The pain came from that little girl inside me who just wanted to be chosen.Who thought maybe, just maybe, this was the moment she found the missing piece of herself…

Only to feel rejected all over again.

I Saw Myself in Her

That girl in the movie?

She loved her mom fiercely.She was full of life.But you could tell she carried a secret ache.

The hope.The heartbreak.The trying-so-hard-to-be-strong.

I was her.

Watching her was like looking into a mirror I didn’t realize I’d been avoiding.

Being a Mom Changed My Perspective

Now that I’m a mom, I see things differently.

Growing up, the dad who raised me could be tough.And for years, I wondered if it was because I wasn’t really his.

But now I know:

He was hard on me because he loved me.Because he believed in me.Because he saw what I could become.

It wasn’t bitterness—It was belief.

And I’m so thankful for him.

If I Could Go Back

I wouldn’t rewrite the story.

I would just go back and give that little girl a hug.

I’d let her cry.I’d tell her it’s okay to feel let down.And I’d remind her:

Her worth was never defined by who left.Or who showed up late.Or who didn’t show up at all.

So If You Take Anything Away From This…

Talk to your kids.Especially your preteens, your tweens, your teens.

They might look okay.They might smile, laugh, carry on like nothing’s wrong.

But that doesn’t mean they’re not hurting.

Some kids become experts at hiding their pain—not because they’re dramatic—but because they’ve learned that’s how you survive.

So tonight…

👉 Hug your kids a little tighter.👉 Ask how they’re really doing.👉 Remind them they’re seen, they’re chosen, they’re enough.

And if there’s a younger version of you still buried inside…

Maybe give them a hug, too.

They’ve waited long enough.