I can’t remember a time when I didn’t want to follow in my dad’s footsteps. While I mean this figuratively now, I vividly recollect shadowing nearly every move of his. It might have been endearing at first, but when I stayed two paces behind him as he mowed the lawn I can see now how that could have caused him some concern! It’s not that I was timid or needed constant companionship, I just felt better knowing that he was safe and nearby. No doubt about it, I could finance a therapist’s retirement with stories like these because there’s a whole lot to unpack; instead, I’ve come to accept that I exhibit traits of a Great Pyrenees who fully relaxes when it has a watchful eye on its herd, and hope that those I love will forgive me this.
Relationships are hard. Relationships with parents are especially difficult to nurture in the best way because they begin when we’re brand new in the world with only our parents to ensure our survival, but as we grow into adults ourselves, the dynamics shift and the needs change. Speaking as someone who has never been a biological mother, I imagine the relationship between mother and child tends to be more instinctual than that between a father and child, at least in the early days. Biological mothers get a nine-month head start on fathers to form a connection with their child. Historically, the attention is placed on mothers because they are ground zero for the main event. Fathers, I imagine, might feel like I tend to feel at nearly every social gathering—out of place and uncertain of whether I’m doing the right thing. Increasingly, though, research on child development points to the impact fathers have on their children, especially their daughters. Daughters whose fathers were a strong, positive presence as they grew up have fewer instances of body image issues, make healthier choices in romantic partners, and feel more empowered to take good risks.
When we’re kids, our relationships with our parents are decidedly one-sided; that is exactly how they’re meant to be. Our parents are the ones who shoulder every burden and provide for us, and we fully expect them to without even a passing thought of their needs, fears, dreams, and struggles. However, as we grow older we become independent from our parents and have lives separate from them. And while we do mature and pursue dreams and pay bills and maybe even begin families of our own, it’s still difficult to see our parents as the humans they are. For the first part of our lives we view them as one-dimensional beings whose role is to give us what we need, so the realization that our parents are flawed, have insecurities, or make mistakes—and that as humans they have every right to—can rattle our very faith in what we believed to be true! To further bring us to our knees, we realize the relationship should evolve into something more balanced, where there is a flow of give and take. Especially in the giving and receiving of grace and forgiveness. What seems to happen an awful lot of times is that offspring hold their parents to standards that no one can reach; we don’t give them the space to have shortcomings or bad days. I don’t think this is done with malicious intent, though, but I do think it occurs when we continue seeing our parents as static characters instead of the dynamic ones they are. It can be especially tough to adjust our thinking where our fathers are concerned because for countless generations they’ve been conditioned to maintain composure, speak little of feelings, and be their family’s provider. They’re reluctant to admit they’ve endured disappointment, self-doubt, and worries no one should have to face alone.
I can’t speak for everyone’s experiences, but I know that I still seek out my dad’s advice and trust his wisdom. It’s not that I lack confidence in my own decision-making ability; it just feels foolish not to solicit the thoughts of someone who’s collected vast experiences and who wants the best for me. As we both grow older, I see with increasing clarity that to have people in our lives who accept us, love us, and forgive us our too many missteps is the greatest of gifts. To grant these in return, especially to the ones who’ve shown up in our lives from day one, is the very least they deserve.
PartWolf 