In a recent post, a community of fathers shared invaluable insights about parenting, and one quote struck me deeply: “Not everyone had a great dad, unfortunately, so Mark Thompson recommends that you ‘Be the dad you needed when you were a kid.’”
When my first child was born, I was overwhelmed with anxiety about my ability to be a father. I vividly recall cradling my newborn son, with his golden curls, and questioning how I could be the parent he needed when my own father had been largely absent. My dad left when I was just 10 and passed away when I was 20, leaving me grappling with feelings of loss and uncertainty about fatherhood.
One sleepless night in the hospital, while holding my son Alex, I made a promise to myself: “I’m going to be the father I never had.” In that moment, it felt empowering, as if I was breaking a chain of absence. But as time passed, I wondered if my aspirations were too high or too low. I never really figured out what I wanted from a father during my childhood.
At times, I simply longed for a dad who remembered my birthday or who would teach me how to fix a bike. I wished for a father who wasn’t consumed by alcohol and who would smile at me when I walked into the room. Sometimes, I just yearned for someone to confide in about the trials of adolescence. More than anything, I wanted a friend.
Honestly, I didn’t have a clear vision of what I needed. This realization makes me empathize with other parents, especially those of us who grew up in tumultuous times when family breakdowns became more common. We now face the formidable challenge of being the kind of parent we wished we had.
I still grapple with understanding what that entails. On days when I doubt my parenting skills, I remind myself that at least I show up for my kids. I come home every night, which feels like a significant step compared to my own childhood. Yet, I sometimes worry that I might be overcompensating. Just the other evening, as I sat beside Alex, who is now 10 and engrossed in a book, I felt the need to express my affection. “Alex,” I said, “I love you. I’m sorry I got home late; I hope you understand.”
He rolled his eyes and replied, “Duh. I know you love me. You say it all the time.” I paused, questioning whether I was being too repetitive. Is it possible to express love too much? Am I really connecting with him, or merely going through the motions?
Perhaps every parent, regardless of their upbringing, wrestles with these thoughts. The challenge becomes even more pronounced when you lack a solid example of what a good parent looks like. It feels like navigating uncharted waters without a compass.
That night, after Alex’s playful “Duh,” I explained, “You know why I say it so often? It’s because my dad wasn’t around much, and I understand how crucial it is to feel loved by your father. I want to make sure you always know I’m here for you.” He didn’t offer a sarcastic remark this time; instead, he simply embraced me and said, “I know you love me, Dad.”
Hearing that was a relief. My father’s absence has fueled my determination to be actively involved in my children’s lives. I refuse to let them face the world without my support because I understand the challenges of growing up without a dad. While I’m grateful for this perspective, it also leaves me questioning my every action as a parent.
Despite my insecurities, I keep moving forward. I consult with my partner for guidance and strive harder than ever to ensure my kids know I genuinely want the best for them. The sad reality is that I may always feel this way.
If you’re looking for more insights into parenting and family life, check out our other blog post here for additional perspectives. And if you’re considering at-home insemination, you might find what you need at reputable retailers like Make a Mom for quality insemination syringe kits. For an extensive overview of home insemination, Healthline provides excellent resources.
In summary, becoming the parent you needed as a child is a complex journey filled with self-reflection, challenges, and love. It’s about striving to be present and nurturing, even when you’re unsure of the right path.
Leave a Reply