Remember when you were a kid and your dad seemed like the strongest man on the planet? Whether it was fixing broken toys, lifting you onto his shoulders, or figuring out how to operate the TV remote, he was your go-to superhero. Back in those days, he ruled the household as the king of the castle, slaying imaginary monsters lurking under your bed and expertly piecing together 100-piece jigsaw puzzles. You believed that the swing set he crafted was a magical gift from Santa, and the glimmer off his watch was Tinkerbell dancing on your wall. He kissed the scrapes, read your favorite stories, and recorded every school recital, making him the strongest and smartest man in your eyes—at least until you turned eight.
Who could forget how much you relied on him? Sure, learning long division could be confusing, but Dad knew the “right” way—even if your teacher wanted you to show your work! Science fairs? No problem! He would whip up an experiment so spectacular you’d take home the blue ribbon. It was a time when his authority was a lovable dictatorship, governed by love and the belief that he was always right.
But as you transitioned into your teenage years, things changed. Suddenly, he was the most unreasonable man on Earth, the one who didn’t understand your struggles and seemed hell-bent on making your life miserable. Asking you to set the table or mow the lawn? Outrageous! And what was with that curfew? It felt like living under oppressive rule.
Every teen goes through this classic clash with authority, leading to years of arguments about everything from politics to hairstyles. In those moments, it was easy to forget that Dad’s “my way is the right way” was really just him trying to protect you from making the same mistakes he did. The advice to avoid that questionable boyfriend or to reconsider that awful living situation wasn’t about control; it was about love.
As you grow older, the haze of adolescence lifts and you start to decode the language of your father. You begin to realize how hard he worked to support you, how watching you stumble was more painful for him than he could express. It wasn’t until I tied the knot that I truly recognized my father’s strength. While many fathers grumble about wedding expenses or the overuse of tulle, beneath that facade lies a deep emotional turmoil. They would pay any price to avoid giving away their little girl, and all that complaining is merely a distraction from the bittersweet day they’ve dreaded since you were born.
On my wedding day, as my dad meticulously arranged centerpieces and fretted over his speech, I saw the depth of his love. He held my hand as I walked down the aisle, a mixture of pride and nervousness in his eyes. And when I finally let go to hold my husband’s hand, I was reminded once again of the strongest man in my life.