Dear son(s)/daughter(s)/both,
I hope you're doing well.
I am writing this all the way back in November 2018 because I already know -God knows how many years in advance- that I will screw up... and this is my attempt to preemptively apologize, and to make you see why I am the way that I am. I guess it won't be worth pulling this one out until I've really messed things up, because it's not like I can use it as a carte blanche to justify all of my mistakes... so I hope future me is wise enough to know when to go for this nuclear option.
Kids, your dad is only human.
I remember when I was in your shoes that it was very easy to blame everything on my own parents. In fact, turning 13 was the cue for me to declare holy war on your grandparents, and to officially hang all of my disappointments and failures on their shoulders. I blamed them for my psychological health; for my lack of direction in life; for their weighty expectations of me; for my terrible social life and for my disastrous love life. Everything was their fault; everything was their mistake; and I shared none of the blame because everything I did was a direct result of their mediocre parenting and misguided efforts to steer my life in the direction they saw as best.
Sometimes I was right.
Like all parents, my parents wanted to see their son become more successful than they ever were; and were always pushing me to improve in ways they wished they had when they'd been my own age... be it academically, spiritually, socially or professionally. In so doing, they felt that the best way to help me was to sometimes be overly critical of me and to "protect me from myself"; occasionally making narrow-minded attempts to control my life as crown regents until such time that I was deemed to have "come of age" and matured enough to seize control of the metaphorical throne- aka, my life. In a way, I was right to blame them; teenage years are when our first seeds of individuality are sown... and while a parent's attempts to force a teenager into following their own way of life can be well intentioned; it can only ever see limited success. Yes, a parent should be firm and put their foot down when necessary; however, in a lot of cases, they should only advise and allow their children to make their own mistakes... because that is how we learn, and how we grow as people. My own parents forgot that, sometimes.
But you know what? I was actually a lot harder on them than they were on me.
Children tend to have this narcissistic, self-centered world view wherein they are the center of the universe; parents exist only to help them realize their full potential, and when they fail they get all the blame... because parenting is their job. They signed up for it; you didn't ask to be born!
Granted, that is correct... however, what you often tend to forget is that a lot of parents truly have no idea what they're doing. They don't have a "how to" parenting manual that is issued to every parent when they birth a child; they're simply doing their absolute best and hoping to give you a decent head-start in life... but in reality, they're very flawed, conflicted human beings who are mostly just winging it and hoping they don't mess up their kids too much; often simply mirroring the outdated parenting techniques their own parents had used on them. They're struggling -through inhumane amounts of stress -to keep their marriages functional; keep food on the table; maintain some semblance of a social life and stay sane enough to be well-rounded parents to their offspring, and a lot of people fail at striking that balance. That is not to say that parents are allowed to screw up; rather, it's an invitation for you to open your heart and accept that your parents are not all-knowing creatures of pure light. They have their flaws; their secrets; their insecurities and their quirks. They are not perfect, but at the end of the day they always mean well and they always have your best interests at heart... whatever they do, they do for you.
Which brings me to now.
I cannot begin to guess what I screwed up, this time- and there is no way for me to write this post 20 billion times to address every possible wrong choice or error in judgement that I could have made. What I can do, instead, is help you hate me for a while; because I know that sometimes, all you need -as a rebellious teen who's still unsure of their place in life and yearning for freedom and self-actualization- is a good old-fashioned parent roast.
I will be the first to admit that I am a supremely messed up individual; I am short-tempered, and I'm sure I've lost my temper with you more times than you can count. I am non-confrontational; and I'm sure you've seen the full spectrum of my passive aggressiveness. I am anti-social; and I'm sure that that has affected you in some way. I am stubborn, and I know that the "my way or the highway" attitude I sometimes have is just about the worst attitude you could possibly have with a teenager. I am possessive and controlling and overprotective, which I am sure infuriates you to no end and triggers your rebellious nature. I have severe trust issues and I am 100% certain that you've already seen that in some capacity. I am lazy and sometimes self-absorbed- though I truly wish I will have grown out of that by the time you were born. I am extremely introverted; and at this point in time, I have no idea what implications that might have had on my relationship with you. And most of all, I'm extremely insecure and terrified that I will turn out to be exactly as bad a father to you as I have always feared I would be.
This letter is my way of acknowledging all of these thoughts, which I know you will have had at some point. For my part, I fully admit to my flaws and take responsibility for whatever mistakes I might have made; even if I am too proud to apologize to you or admit fault. I know I can be a difficult person to live with, and that you didn't ask to be my son(s)/daughter(s).
But I have something to ask of you, as well.
I need you to know that whatever I did was not malicious power play designed to manipulate you or nullify your personality. For all my flaws, I am not manipulative. What I am is brutally honest, and so you can believe me when I say that as much as you want to hate me right now, you don't. Take it from a formerly rebellious teen; eventually, you will grow up... and the older you get, the more you will realize the method in my madness. Slowly, you will begin to understand and then to relate to my decision-making... for that is the cycle we must all go through; we idolize our parents as children; hate them as teens; grow uncertain about their places in our lives in our early adulthood; then by our late 20s we understand and accept them for who they are.
Don't victimize yourself, and understand that we're a team. I want you to be the best you that you can be, and while I'm sure I sometimes make questionable decisions, I want you to know that I'm doing my best, and that I will always welcome your opinion and honest feedback. I would always much rather have a candid face-to-face discussion with you than live blissfully unaware of the festering resentment brewing in your heart. I don't ever want to be the stereotypical aloof, emotionally distant father to you... I want to be your friend and advisor; the person you turn to and not the person you hide from.
I don't know at what age you will read this, if indeed you ever will... for I am currently not at all certain that I will ever want to be a father -I understand the weight of the responsibility and do not at all take it lightly, and therefore you can rest assured that if you exist, then I have given it significant prior thought and preparation before deciding that I was ready- but in any case, know that you are the most important person(s) in my life and that your birth was the most life-changing event that will likely ever happen to me. I love you, unconditionally... even if you're pretending -or perhaps trying- to hate me right now.
Please find it in your heart to understand; to accept; and to forgive a struggling parent who may have made mistakes, but is still really trying.
Yours, now and forever,
Dad
I hope you're doing well.
I am writing this all the way back in November 2018 because I already know -God knows how many years in advance- that I will screw up... and this is my attempt to preemptively apologize, and to make you see why I am the way that I am. I guess it won't be worth pulling this one out until I've really messed things up, because it's not like I can use it as a carte blanche to justify all of my mistakes... so I hope future me is wise enough to know when to go for this nuclear option.
Kids, your dad is only human.
I remember when I was in your shoes that it was very easy to blame everything on my own parents. In fact, turning 13 was the cue for me to declare holy war on your grandparents, and to officially hang all of my disappointments and failures on their shoulders. I blamed them for my psychological health; for my lack of direction in life; for their weighty expectations of me; for my terrible social life and for my disastrous love life. Everything was their fault; everything was their mistake; and I shared none of the blame because everything I did was a direct result of their mediocre parenting and misguided efforts to steer my life in the direction they saw as best.
Sometimes I was right.
Like all parents, my parents wanted to see their son become more successful than they ever were; and were always pushing me to improve in ways they wished they had when they'd been my own age... be it academically, spiritually, socially or professionally. In so doing, they felt that the best way to help me was to sometimes be overly critical of me and to "protect me from myself"; occasionally making narrow-minded attempts to control my life as crown regents until such time that I was deemed to have "come of age" and matured enough to seize control of the metaphorical throne- aka, my life. In a way, I was right to blame them; teenage years are when our first seeds of individuality are sown... and while a parent's attempts to force a teenager into following their own way of life can be well intentioned; it can only ever see limited success. Yes, a parent should be firm and put their foot down when necessary; however, in a lot of cases, they should only advise and allow their children to make their own mistakes... because that is how we learn, and how we grow as people. My own parents forgot that, sometimes.
But you know what? I was actually a lot harder on them than they were on me.
Children tend to have this narcissistic, self-centered world view wherein they are the center of the universe; parents exist only to help them realize their full potential, and when they fail they get all the blame... because parenting is their job. They signed up for it; you didn't ask to be born!
Granted, that is correct... however, what you often tend to forget is that a lot of parents truly have no idea what they're doing. They don't have a "how to" parenting manual that is issued to every parent when they birth a child; they're simply doing their absolute best and hoping to give you a decent head-start in life... but in reality, they're very flawed, conflicted human beings who are mostly just winging it and hoping they don't mess up their kids too much; often simply mirroring the outdated parenting techniques their own parents had used on them. They're struggling -through inhumane amounts of stress -to keep their marriages functional; keep food on the table; maintain some semblance of a social life and stay sane enough to be well-rounded parents to their offspring, and a lot of people fail at striking that balance. That is not to say that parents are allowed to screw up; rather, it's an invitation for you to open your heart and accept that your parents are not all-knowing creatures of pure light. They have their flaws; their secrets; their insecurities and their quirks. They are not perfect, but at the end of the day they always mean well and they always have your best interests at heart... whatever they do, they do for you.
Which brings me to now.
I cannot begin to guess what I screwed up, this time- and there is no way for me to write this post 20 billion times to address every possible wrong choice or error in judgement that I could have made. What I can do, instead, is help you hate me for a while; because I know that sometimes, all you need -as a rebellious teen who's still unsure of their place in life and yearning for freedom and self-actualization- is a good old-fashioned parent roast.
I will be the first to admit that I am a supremely messed up individual; I am short-tempered, and I'm sure I've lost my temper with you more times than you can count. I am non-confrontational; and I'm sure you've seen the full spectrum of my passive aggressiveness. I am anti-social; and I'm sure that that has affected you in some way. I am stubborn, and I know that the "my way or the highway" attitude I sometimes have is just about the worst attitude you could possibly have with a teenager. I am possessive and controlling and overprotective, which I am sure infuriates you to no end and triggers your rebellious nature. I have severe trust issues and I am 100% certain that you've already seen that in some capacity. I am lazy and sometimes self-absorbed- though I truly wish I will have grown out of that by the time you were born. I am extremely introverted; and at this point in time, I have no idea what implications that might have had on my relationship with you. And most of all, I'm extremely insecure and terrified that I will turn out to be exactly as bad a father to you as I have always feared I would be.
This letter is my way of acknowledging all of these thoughts, which I know you will have had at some point. For my part, I fully admit to my flaws and take responsibility for whatever mistakes I might have made; even if I am too proud to apologize to you or admit fault. I know I can be a difficult person to live with, and that you didn't ask to be my son(s)/daughter(s).
But I have something to ask of you, as well.
I need you to know that whatever I did was not malicious power play designed to manipulate you or nullify your personality. For all my flaws, I am not manipulative. What I am is brutally honest, and so you can believe me when I say that as much as you want to hate me right now, you don't. Take it from a formerly rebellious teen; eventually, you will grow up... and the older you get, the more you will realize the method in my madness. Slowly, you will begin to understand and then to relate to my decision-making... for that is the cycle we must all go through; we idolize our parents as children; hate them as teens; grow uncertain about their places in our lives in our early adulthood; then by our late 20s we understand and accept them for who they are.
Don't victimize yourself, and understand that we're a team. I want you to be the best you that you can be, and while I'm sure I sometimes make questionable decisions, I want you to know that I'm doing my best, and that I will always welcome your opinion and honest feedback. I would always much rather have a candid face-to-face discussion with you than live blissfully unaware of the festering resentment brewing in your heart. I don't ever want to be the stereotypical aloof, emotionally distant father to you... I want to be your friend and advisor; the person you turn to and not the person you hide from.
I don't know at what age you will read this, if indeed you ever will... for I am currently not at all certain that I will ever want to be a father -I understand the weight of the responsibility and do not at all take it lightly, and therefore you can rest assured that if you exist, then I have given it significant prior thought and preparation before deciding that I was ready- but in any case, know that you are the most important person(s) in my life and that your birth was the most life-changing event that will likely ever happen to me. I love you, unconditionally... even if you're pretending -or perhaps trying- to hate me right now.
Please find it in your heart to understand; to accept; and to forgive a struggling parent who may have made mistakes, but is still really trying.
Yours, now and forever,
Dad
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