I No Longer Recognize Who I See in the Mirror
Lessons from self-reflection over three decades.
I remember being a young man, maybe 13 or 14, standing in the kitchen of the home I grew up in.
It was a place I didn’t normally stand. Aside the sink, above the yellow Formica counter top, holding a chopping knife. My back was to the family, seated and finishing their meals, as I diced up dinner for our dog. From behind I hear my mom say, barely loud enough for me to hear, “He’ll make a great father someday.”
This statement defined much of my adolescent and adult life.
I stood out as a young adult by leveraging my warmer qualities. I was the compassionate one. The patient one. The selfless one who put all others first. My mother modeled this for me, and unknowingly or maybe knowingly, encouraged this behavior. I took it as a point of pride.
I wanted to live up to that comment my mother made. I wanted to be a “great father someday.”
Sadly, I am not.
Somewhere along the line, I lost my way. Strayed from the path. And now, I am struggling to find my way back to it.
I was compassionate, patient, and selfless. I was emotional, romantic, and loving. I was on the track to becoming a great father.
I was the one who wanted to adopt the stray dog that cruised into our neighborhood when I was 12.
I was the one who, physically distraught after injuring a friend during a 3rd grade bark chip fight, tearfully came clean to the principal in a moment of maturity beyond my years.
I was the one who dreamed of spoiling a significant other with lavish gifts and endless love.
And I was the one who always wanted a fair game more than a win.
Perhaps the biggest gesture was during my senior year of high school, when I decided to forego my spot in a 4-year university to instead attend a local community college because I didn’t want my girlfriend at the time to feel left out… A defining and course-altering moment in my life that is the epitome of my “you before me” mentality.
Lesson #1: It’s ok to be helpful to others. Noble even. The consequence comes from imbalance, and you lose too much of yourself if you are always giving.
At some point between then and now, I started living more for me.
I moved to a new city, changed careers, then threw myself into work. This was to much sacrifice of relationships with friends and family. I started evaluating my self-worth on work accomplishments alone and I grew cold in the process.
To be fair, I was warned. This was my M.O. during my first marriage, and outsiders knew it. They saw the red flags and they let me know, but I was unable to reverse course. My inability to care for the relationship with my wife in a healthy way ultimately led to that marriage ending.
Still, I did not change. I moved again and took even more work. I vaulted myself to within the top ranks of my company and although the accolades were great, they were short-lived and created a vicious cycle of need. The need to take more work to remain on top. Followed then by the need to use materialism to fill the void left by the relationships I let die.
Lesson #2: It’s ok to put yourself first, but remember to stay grounded and in touch with those who have always supported you. No amount of money or success can replace quality relationships.
Today, as husband to my second wife and father to two beautiful girls, I’m afraid I see new tendencies. The materialism has waned, but new unhealthy behaviors are in its place.
All those years grinding away at work has worn away my warmth and soft shell. I’ve become robotic. A machine. One that gets up, completes the tasks he’s designed to do, and nothing else. I no longer know what I want or who I am because I’ve devoted my active hours serving someone else’s agenda. I am a cold, robotic, compassionless producer.
And now, because I’ve lost any connection to my emotions and all familiarity with who I am on the inside, I’ve not been able to connect with my kids. Certainly not in the way I want or the way they need and deserve. This basic humanistic trait feels forced now, and has become a skill I need to relearn.
I think most kids respond more to connection than attention. I am capable of giving my kids attention, but it is clear I struggle when trying to connect. This is what is required before I can consider my self a “great father.” The one I am destined to be.
Compounding this, I’ve copped out of my responsibilities. I’ve leaned on my being the sole earner in the household and rationalized it as being enough.
I provide. That’s my role. But do I? In a strictly monetary sense, sure, but what else am I providing? I could certainly stand to provide a more loving, accepting, and supportive household.
Lesson #3: Squash your bad habits before it becomes too late. At minimum, it’ll require a concerted effort to earn a chance back to where you want to be, if you even get that chance at all.
I think often about advice my dad gave me when I confided in him about my struggles. He shared that he was faced with a similar conflict. There’s work and there’s family. And he made a conscious choice. He decided:
“If you have to pick one, fail at work before you fail at family. “
Sage advice there, I need to dive headfirst in that direction.
