I’ve (30F) been lying about my son’s father for 12 years and I want to finally tell the truth to my parents (55F) (60M) and son.

November 24, 2025

AITA for finally wanting to tell my son the truth about his deceased father after keeping it a secret for years?

I’ve kept my son’s father’s identity a secret for 12 years to protect my family and myself, but now my son is asking questions and I’m terrified of the fallout if I tell the truth.

I was 16 when I dated a 26-year-old man. Though I loved him, I now realize how wrong our relationship was—but I don’t think I was groomed or manipulated. He eventually asked me to marry him when I was pregnant at 17, but I said no. Tragically, he took his own life shortly after. I’ve hidden his identity from everyone except my best friend to protect my family from pain and judgment. Now my 12-year-old son is asking questions about his dad, and I’m scared to tell the truth because I don’t want to upset the fragile peace I’ve worked so hard to build.

From the start, I knew the relationship was complicated. I begged for intimacy, but I was too young to fully understand what was happening. He struggled with severe mental health issues. After I became pregnant, he hoped marriage would bring stability, but it didn’t. After his death, I lied to my family about the father, fearing their disappointment. Now, as my son grows up, I want him to know about his father honestly—including the pictures I’ve kept and the traits he inherited—but I’m unsure how to responsibly reveal these truths.

"I’ve kept this lie up for so long that I don’t even know how to start unraveling it."

My son is smart and kind, and deservedly curious about his roots. Every time I lie, it weighs heavily on me. I want to be honest with him in an age-appropriate way about who his father was and how he died. I worry about telling my parents though, since revealing the truth might undo the healing we’ve had after my teen pregnancy. It’s a delicate balance between protecting my son’s right to know and preserving family peace.

"I want to do the right thing, but I’m so scared it’ll blow up everything again."

I’m grappling with how to start these conversations with both my son and my parents. There’s no clear solution, but I know continuing the lies isn’t sustainable. The fear of judgment and turmoil battles the need for honesty and emotional healing.

🏠 The Aftermath

For over a decade, I maintained the secret to avoid unsettling my parents and son. Now, with my son’s growing curiosity, the lie feels like a barrier harming him and myself.

Telling the truth risks reopening old wounds with my family, possibly disrupting the fragile peace after my pregnancy. There’s also fear of how my son will process the reality of his father’s age, their relationship, and his father’s death.

Despite this, the emotional cost of sustaining the facade is heavy, and I’m trying to find a way to be forthcoming without causing more damage.