
When I first learned I was going to have a son, pride was quickly overwhelmed by fear. Deep down inside, I believed I was flawed for being a fatherless son, and I immediately knew I had to do everything in my power not to pass down those shortcomings. But is it possible to right another man’s wrong?
Thinking back to those days as a child, I don’t recall ever being upset at my father for not being in my life. But sadly, I remember having this deep longing to be proud of him, just like Jon was of his Dad. And now at the age of 33, I realize I have brought that baggage into my role as a father. When I first learned I was going to have a son, there was an immense feeling of pride that was quickly overwhelmed by fear. Deep down inside, I believed I was flawed for being a fatherless son, and I immediately knew I had to do everything in my power not to pass down those shortcomings.
There is an overcompensation that happens, due to my inner necessity to give my children everything I didn’t have.
My father made a choice to not being in my life during my childhood, and to this day I am unsure what his reasons were, or what took precedence over me. I was an aspiring hip-hop artist when I met my wife, and as cliché as it sounds, I was really talented with a pretty good chance of being able to make a living from my art. But when my wife became pregnant with my first child, I chose family over a dream that required so much from me but, at that time, gave little in return. I knew that if I wanted to give my new family a healthy start, I had to find a career path that tapped into my other passions, while also giving me the opportunity to provide and become the man I aspired to be – a good father and someone my children could look up to.
I’m sure there are other fathers who are reading this, that have had a similar experience but have yet to unpack any of it. Being able to confront these truths about myself wasn’t easy, and it required vulnerability and self-honesty. I liken the absence of my father to losing a loved-one, except I had never let myself grieve that loss. Even when I finally met him at the age of 16, it was like meeting a mall Santa Claus – in my mind he still wasn’t even a real person. This allowed me to dodge feeling any real emotions. So I went back to the previous version of my life, where I never knew him, and everything was copacetic.
As a father, I have had to face that pain head on, and understand how it influences who I am in this space. I had so many fears and insecurities–the fear of failure and thinking that I carried the “deadbeat” gene. But it was my loving wife who constantly instilled in me the confidence that I was a good and whole man – deserving of love, happiness and success.
Now, having two beautiful children, I realize that when I parent without those fears and insecurities, I am giving them the greatest opportunity to grow without boundaries. I can protect them from the pain of defeat and push them overboard to reach greater heights. Of course, I want my children to be better than me, but I cannot let that goal deter them from truly knowing love. So it is only fair that I do not interject my experiences as a measure for who they can and should be.
When I understand that there is no curse that needs to be broken, and no debt that I need to repay, fatherhood becomes an extraordinarily beautiful gift.
My father’s decisions are not mine and, although they had a big part in creating who I am today, they will not determine who I choose to be for my wife and children.
So when I come home from a long day of work, and my son runs to jump in my arms while his baby sister looks up at me with a smile – I think of my six-year-old self. I imagine he is proud of the Dad I have become.
JOIN THE CONVERSATION