Happy 20th Birthday, Hayatt!

One of my favourite photos of us together. Taken on a boat on the Nile and a rare occasion where I was seen with hair over my head in the last 20 years!

Happy birthday, my love.

I can hardly believe what I’m writing. Twenty! You’re no longer a teenager. You’re a young woman now. It feels like yesterday you were singing Wrecking Ball at your school concert with fearless power, or handing me menus you designed for our at-home restaurant, complete with careful plating and prices. Those memories live in me like warm sunlight.

I remember you sitting next to me at Oud school, hanging out with my classmates while I practiced. I remember our birthday dates, our road trips to Alexandria, the times we played in the sea and covered each other in sand at the beach house. Watching the Discovery Channel together. Laughing. Singing “Hit the road Jack” and playing music together. Goofing around with Brooklyn Nine-Nine and The IT Crowd jokes. Watching Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings masterpiece trilogy on bluray. You loved it so much. I chose the name of this website/blog in a nod to that fond memory I have with you and your sister, and to the pet names we called each other with all the time: Deagol and Sméagol.

There was that unforgettable trip to Luxor and Aswan over Christmas - the ancient ruins, the boat rides, your curiosity, and the joy in the balloon ride at sunrise. And I remember the time you forgot the key in the hotel room and cried, thinking you’d be in trouble. I told you it was okay, that the front desk could help us. But I saw the fear in your eyes. And later, I understood where it came from.

I wasn’t always the father you needed. I didn’t always make you feel safe to mess up, speak up, or be your full self. That’s something I wish I could go back and change. If I could hold that version of you in that moment now, I’d tell her again and again - it’s okay. You are never too much. You never needed to be perfect.

It’s taken me a long time, but I’ve grown. I’ve come to understand things I couldn’t see clearly back then - about parenting, about life, about love.

And as I’ve grown, so have you - without me. That’s been the hardest truth to accept.

I wish we could’ve grown together. Learned together. Made amends together. But the opportunity to do that was taken from us - not by my choice, but by circumstances I couldn’t control. I tried, for years, through legal means, through knocking on every door I could find. And then I made the hardest decision in my life. I stopped. Because I realized that my attempts to force our connection only deepened the conflict and made it harder on you and your sister. I never wanted to be the cause of more pain for you, and I will accept my own pain as the price to pay in exchange for your peace of mind. That’s how I could express my love in the only way that I could control. I could set you free.

So I stepped back. Not because I gave up, but because I love you more than my need to be proven right or to be present as an obligation on you. I want you to live free of guilt, pressure, and the loyalty conflicts you were put in - conflicts no child should ever experience.

Still, I want you to know: I have never stopped loving you. I am so proud of the woman you’re becoming. And while I know you’ve said I’m not welcome in your life - and I respect that - should your heart ever change, should curiosity ever replace distance, you will find me waiting for your with open arms. No pressure. No expectations. Just pure love.

This is your life. Your story. And your 20s will be full of love, growth, mistakes, adventure, beauty, joy, and heartbreak. All of it is sacred. And all of it is yours.

Welcome to adulthood. I believe in you with all my heart. You are smart, funny, strong, brilliant, and wildly capable.

And if one day you feel ready to reconnect, I promise you this: I will meet you as the man I am now - grounded, open, and loving as always.

Happy birthday, kiddo.

Love,

Dad