My name is Quinn. I'm a teenager. You might remember that my name was in the news about 15 years ago because of my father. Actually he doesn't really deserve the title "father." His name is John Edwards.
Back in January 2010, he admitted that he was my "father." The quotes are intentional and the word admitted stings whenever I write it.
It's a long story but I'll make it brief. You see, my "father" was running for President in 2008 and gaining some momentum in the race. And then Obama and Clinton took center stage and his spotlight was fading. And on top of all that, his wife was diagnosed with cancer. I'm sure it was tough.
I'm equally sure my mother (no quotes here) offered solace. Until she found out she was pregnant. This is where I enter the story. And as they say, the plot thickens.
So he admits that he was having an affair (when all hopes of winning the nomination were gone) but decides not to come clean about me. He lies. He denies that he is my biological father.
I have recently read the newspapers in which my "father" was quoted denying that I was his daughter. I have seen the television interviews. I took special note of his wife's observation that she could tell by looking at me that I was not "his." I have told him how all this made me feel. Small. Awful. Unwanted. Painfully sad. I have told him how it made me feel about him. Selfish, uncaring, unfeeling, despicable.
Politicians deny and then they admit all the time. About paying taxes, about using government money to fund vacations, even about having affairs.
But did he not think for one instance that someday I would see and read his lies? Did he not think for one instance how it might make me feel?
I know the answer to these questions now.
So why am I telling you? Because if my voice can keep one politician from lying about something or someone... hell, about anything or anyone- then it strikes me that I should tell more than my "dad."
I have so much more to say but I must run. I can't be late for therapy.