WHO THE HELL IS ‘RATHNEY’ : The real truth about Matt Francis Quinn.

  1. MAY

    WHO THE HELL IS RATHNEY – the truth about Matt Francis Quinn

    WHO THE HELL IS ‘RATHNEY’ : The real truth about Matt Francis Quinn.
    “As a man who actually ditched his own daughter when she was a baby, I suppose he is well acquainted with the damage that a ‘dead beat dad’ can do.”
                                             (‘The doting dad’)
    Since 2010 I have been aware that detailed information regarding the whereabouts of my biological father existed online. I remember being in 5th or 6th year at school, aged 16 or 17 and opening the evening times one day to see him pictured standing in front of the now historic ‘red road Flats’, with an article below talking of his time spent there, how he started his businesses from those very flats. His ‘rags to riches’ story if you like.
    (Aged 1-2)

    My parents split when I was one. After a painfully abusive and mentally destructive nine-year marriage to my father. The story goes that my mother returned home one night from visiting relatives in Glasgow, to be confronted by my paternal father and his ‘Mistress’ Allegedly named ‘Linda’.  My mother had arrived home early, and naturally my  father would not have expected the mother of his one-year old baby girl to return to her marital home a mere 24 hours early. How dare she. He left, or more so was told to leave and his little piece of blonde ambition he had been keeping on the side followed.
    After that night a two year divorce/custodial battle began, with my father filing for divorce based on ‘Intellectual differences’  – Hardly appropriate in my opinion based on the idiotic babble I’ve recently found online penned by the man himself. At aged two-ish, After a long and winded lawyer’s letter spat, my father decided that the commute from Livingstone where he resided with his mother, to Stevenston in Ayrshire (Approx. 2 hours away) apparently was too much for him to travel. Now forgive me for being naïve, But I would have thought any father fighting for the right to their child would be willing to make that journey if they were looking to seek sole custody of their baby. Apparently not. Thus resulting in him never to be seen by myself in person ever again.

    I grew up, and he was never really a thought in my mind, My mother is, was and always will be a complete champion. We lived alone in our flat in Stevenston and it was there with her that I developed my love for 90’s music. The fondest memory I have of being there was on a Sunday, at aged 4 I would sit on the stool in the kitchen, watching my mum cook us a roast beef dinner, singing along to the likes of Oasis, Phil Collins and of course the Spice Girls. I never remember any of the darkness my mother suffered from. She never let negativity touch me.

    Just before my 5th birthday, A ray of light came into our life. My mother became involved with my ‘Step-father’, and I use the term ‘step’ only for technical purposes. He has been forever my best friend, since the age of Five I was brought into a family, with a gran, and ten cousins, four uncles and aunts, and many more to follow. I took on his name at the age of 8 when he married my mum, and have always regarded him as my daddy.  He’s been there for me through the break-up of the Spice Girls, My first hangover, He bought me my first car, and this year will walk me down the aisle on my wedding day.
    (AGED 4 – My Christening day)

    And so this brings me back to when I was 17, Finding out after years of hearing bits and pieces about him, I finally have a clear image printed in a national paper, next to an article quoting this man reflecting on his time spent in the famous ‘Red Road’. It makes a good read, and should be available in all good toilets as optional toilet paper since half of the actual story is missing. My father in fact lived with my mother in the flat, and did in fact start ‘Their’ business together from those very bricks. She would take phone calls, and he would verbally abuse her when she incorrectly noted down information. The photo’s I have, show them happy, Living together with their black and white cats, it baffles me that it went so sour. 
    Now I must make it clear that my mother has never ever denied her love for my biological sperm donor. She was besotted, and when they finally split in 1993/94 she was genuinely heart broken. She always had her suspicions that he was lying to her. Strange phone calls from a woman claiming to be one of his classmates, His late returns from college, because he was busy ‘filming’ all added to his case for ‘Husband of the year’.  I could go on, however I have respect for my mother, and as much as the truth outed would be fabulous for me. I can live with knowing what I know.

    Last week I made a discovery, I discovered that my paternal father has not only re-produced myself. He actually has another 20 year old daughter, and a ‘wife’ of 23 years. Now maths was never my strongest subject, Geography and Modern Studies were more my kind of thing, However I am 24 this year… My parents were not legally divorced until 94/95 and something doesn’t quite add up right? In addition to this I also read online that the sperm donor has re-produced prior to his marriage to my mother…. A Chinese baby, born some 9 years before me, 6 months premature – Like me. (I was born at 6 months, and my mother suffered from preeclampsia having me, and had to give birth via emergency C section) The baby died at 6 days old, and had little more than a 15% chance of survival, Soon after this my father’s first partner was fatally killed in a road accident, which I would never wish on anyone and hope to god no one had to endure the pain of this horrendous loss, however, meeting my mother in 1983/1984, The very SAME year you lost your future wife and baby, you would expect this type of information would be disclosed to your wife of 9 years and future mother of your baby….
    You can appreciate my further disappointment in the biological sperm donor, when I read on to see him ‘blogging’ about how thankful he is, that his at this point, 19 year old daughter, has been brought up in a safe, secure loving home, and that he has been able to ‘protect’ her.


     When you decided that a two hour commute was too much to see your baby daughter? When you sat every 14th of November knowing that it was my birthday, and never bothered to even send a wish in my direction, When you tortured my mother and had he believe she was a fool? When you stated in your lawyer’s letters to her that she would be ‘Incapable of educating me’. Let me tell YOU something, 6 Scottish highers later, and I did okay!!

    I have never once longed for your existence, but the fact you have kept a sibling from me, and have potentially produced lie after lie regarding my own existence as a human being, proves exactly what type of man you are. To quote “Matt Quinn is a liar and a fantasist” – I could never confirm or deny if these allegations and things written ARE true, but you can bet your arse I’ve made my own mind up.

    For my little sister Amanda, I hope you are smart and beautiful. I hope one day you know you have a big sister who would have loved you, who would have shared her sweets and played football with you in the park. I would have had you as a bridesmaid at my wedding, and would have taught you how to drive.

    To ‘Linda’ I hope you never had to endure what my mother did.

    And to you, Matt, I hope you know you missed a lot, I’ve grown to be a pretty successful young woman. I own my house, hold a position of authority in the motor trade, and will be getting married this year. My favourite subject as school was Geography, I have a higher in Art and Design, I am a good artist and I studied Social and economic studies at college. My favourite food is chicken. I passed my driving test first time with no minors when I was 17, when I was 6 I thought Phil Collins was my real dad… because he was bald. I have long dark curly hair and one of my favourite songs is ‘Brown eyed girl’ because my mum used to sing it to me when I was little. I grew to be the person I am because of my mother and father. My mother taught me never to hate you, she never once made herself out to be an arch angel, but she told me the truth and let me make my own mind up. She taught me how to love music, and has given me a life beyond my wildest dreams. I have wanted for nothing. My REAL daddy, taught me how to fit brakes to my car, showed me how to spray paint a motorbike, and teaches me every single god damn day the real meaning of unconditional love.


    (AGED 23 – Me Today)


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