If your father was from South America instead of the Middle East, I'd ask if you were one of my brothers, your situation with your parent is so similar to mine. The unfaithfulness, the broken promises, the absence at important events - I have to scrape to dredge up a pleasant memory of the man. I don't see myself as particularly sensitive, but there's definitely an emotional lacuna, a father-shaped hole in my heart, after dealing with this growing up.

Part of what makes our situation so difficult is that, for so many people in America, it's just unthinkable. It's like something from an old fairy-tale or a translated novel - it's not part of the American narrative of parenthood. An unloving parent who doesn't talk to you? Ever? Surely that can't be right, surely there must be something wrong with you, the person who asserts that this is so. I, for one, don't often feel like telling the whole story to refute this, so I just live with it and move on.

There's a book called Angry Women, and it features an interview with the author bell hooks. In this interview, Ms. hooks recounts a conversation with her mother in which she said that her father never loved her. Instead of proffering the usual reassuring statements, Ms hooks' mother admitted, "You're right - your father didn't love you, and I never understood why." For Ms. hooks, it was tremendously liberating to hear this acknowledged; that yes, a father can be an asshole who doesn't love his child, for whatever reason. It's something to think about.

You can show your daughter her cultural heritage without her having to deal with an unreliable, unpleasant adult, who may hurt her as much as he hurt you. My own father doesn't deal well with his grandkids, and it's gotten worse since the kids have gotten old enough to have their own opinions.

"I feel like I should have some kind of relationship with him, no matter how superficial"

But you can have a superficial relationship on your terms. As long as you ask nothing. It might be good for you. It's something to try, and you can always end it.

But reconcile? I just looked it up in an online dictionary.

1. To reestablish a close relationship between.

2. To settle or resolve.

3. To bring (oneself) to accept: He finally reconciled himself to the change in management.

4. To make compatible or consistent: reconcile my way of thinking with yours. See Synonyms at adapt.

There is no way that any of those things are going to happen. Except maybe you can accept the reality of the situation. This could be a basis for some sort of forgiveness and letting go of a past that was hurtful.

This is for you. It might help. Good luck.

I'm the newer wife (over 15 years, but long after the divorce) of a man similar to your father. He is there for me, a loyal, strong man who I love with all my heart. The only thing that really bothers me about him is his relationship with his adult children, whom he only had limited visitation rights to when they were growing up.

They are all very smart, talented, smart, kind, good people. He's very lucky and I'm proud to know and be part of their family. For some reason he sees this on many levels, but sees all of their reaching out to him as not real, not sincere. He even manages to feel rejection and hurt when they sense rejection on his part and he's frequently the cause of the problem. He even can play the victim which is maddening.

His failings are easy to understand when you know his background, he's a better (by far) person than either of his parents, but it doesn't excuse his reaction to his kid's needs. He lashes out which is very different to how reacts to my needs and those of our friends. They sense this, which I guess even hurts them more.

Just know that no parent wakes up and tries to figure out how to screw up their kids. He does love them, deeply, but he doesn't know how to respond. He has done things to help provide for them in the future that they don't know about, that they'd be shocked to find out about.

I don't have an answer for the LW, I hope they can have peace with their decision whatever it is.

I’m an American and I had a father like yours- I think a certain kind of parent, good or bad, doesn’t know about nationality or racial boundaries, though there may be some cultural generalizations. My father has been dead two and a half years, and my grieving has been complicated, mostly because of his destructiveness with his children and the in-fighting it set up. A lot of my life I lived to good effect out of spiting him- “I’ll show you I’m not a failure, damn you” (I did get acknowledgement several times before he died about his respecting me). I gave up on him ever being the father I wanted in my early twenties- I'm now in my fifties. I also decided then to not take his attitude toward me personally- he was a shit to pretty much everyone in his life. Was it easy doing this- no, double no, triple no, but at least working on my attitude and perspective gave me a life of some freedom in the present. Mostly now I just have sadness and pity for him- he lost out on so much of what to me is worthwhile in life. He died a frightened and lonely man- not because he didn’t have people around him, but because he couldn’t let them in. The important piece is that I made a life without needing his approval or love- I learned to just let him be, and out of that, to just let myself be. Life, and for sure our relationships, isn’t perfect. Life, and your daughter, is precious- give love to her, and that way you give it to yourself- it won’t make up for what you didn’t get, but it will go a long ways.