I'm estranged from my dad. The term 'ambiguous loss' helped me make sense of my feelings.

• I last saw my dad when I was 20.
• Our estrangement was confusing and made me feel unworthy of love.
• I learned about ambiguous loss, and it gave me the language to heal.

The last time I saw my dad, we test-drove a Jet Ski. He'd just repaired it for a customer, and the lake that day was flawless.

"Hold on tight," he said before we sped off.

I was 20. I wrapped my arms around him and wondered if this simple act meant he finally loved me.

But later that year we became estranged after an argument on the phone.

As anyone who's cut ties with a family member understands, reasons for estrangement are far from simple.

I was ashamed of being fatherless

Throughout my 20s I both longed for and despised him. Envy stirred in my heart anytime somebody else's dad brought them groceries or called them to check in. I wondered why I wasn't good enough for my own dad to show up.

Friends often asked, "What does your dad do?" What they really meant was "Where is he?" Ashamed of his absence, I'd say that we aren't that close or that he's an alcoholic. Those words didn't capture the complexity of our situation, but they ended the conversation.

Being fatherless wasn't something people talked about, and I feared what I'd miss out on. How would I learn to change a tire? Who would walk me down the aisle?

The loss I felt was similar to grief, but since my dad was still alive I knew it wasn't the same. When I began writing about our relationship in my memoir, I realized I couldn't be the only person feeling this way. I researched types of grief and loss, wondering if there was a name for the confusion I felt.

'Ambiguous loss' explained my estrangement

I discovered ambiguous loss, which describes the grief of losing someone without closure. Pauline Boss, who coined this term in the 1970s, has said many life situations can spur ambiguous loss: divorce, ended friendships, mental illness, addiction, and more.

It made sense that estrangement could also spur ambiguous loss. I knew my dad was out in the world, but our contact had been severed. Ambiguous loss explained our earlier relationship, too. When I was in middle school he retreated from our family as he succumbed to addiction. The feeling that he was physically there but not really there was further confused by his emotional and mental abuse. He was either hurting us or not sober. 

Ambiguous loss can be harmful; a lack of closure can prolong grief, preventing healing. Not having an answer to explain a great loss can lead people to spend the rest of their lives looking for one. I knew this pattern well. I used to dwell on positive memories of my dad, like when he helped me study for a test. I blamed his absence on a troubled childhood, believing he could love us only as well as he was loved.

But I'm no longer searching for a reason my dad wasn't there the way I needed him to be. "Ambiguous loss" showed me I don't need the finality of death to move on, and while part of me will always grieve this loss, I've gained the knowledge that I was worthy of love all along.