“He Needs You.”
You know how many times I’ve heard that lately? More than ever in the past week.
Even she said it to me after she walked in on me. But up until these last few days, I always thought the same thing:
“No, he doesn’t. I’m a shit dad. I’m too strict. I upset everyone.”
They didn’t like it when I limited screen time.
They didn’t like it when I banned them from devices after bad behavior.
They didn’t like it when I tried to cut back sugar, ultra-processed food, and all the crap pumped into them.
They didn’t like it when I told them to clean up after themselves—pick up their rubbish, wipe the piss off the toilet seat, put their plates away.
And yet, somehow, I was the bad guy.
The “grumpy moany fun killer.”
All I wanted was to instill values—to teach them the discipline I never had, to guide them toward a healthier, more productive life. I wasn’t doing it to be an asshole. I was doing it because I cared. But instead, it caused tension, caused arguments, and made me feel like I was constantly pushing against a tide that never stopped coming in.
Was I Wrong? Or Just Unsupported?
I don’t know. Maybe I was too hard on them at times. I can own that.
But was I wrong?
Was I wrong for thinking kids shouldn’t waste the best years of their lives staring at screens for 8, 9, 10, 12 hours a day?
Was I wrong for wanting them to grow up without being completely dependent on junk food and sugar?
Was I wrong for wanting them to learn basic responsibility before rewarding them with mindless scrolling?
Maybe I was.
Maybe I wasn’t.
Maybe I was just a man trying to be a father without the right support.
And that’s where the anger came in. That’s where the resentment built up.
Being told I was speaking aggressively when I wasn’t.
Being told I talked to people like shit when I was just being firm.
Being told I was angry when I wasn’t—until, eventually, I became angry.
I wasn’t a great father.
I wasn’t a great stepfather.
But I tried. In my own way, I tried.
But He Needs You.
And now, all I hear is: “He needs you.”
Do these people not think I know that?
Do they not think I feel it in my bones?
Do they not understand that knowing he needs me makes it even harder when I feel like I’ve failed?
Because when you believe you’re worthless, when you think you’re a shit parent, a shit partner, someone who just upsets everyone—you convince yourself they’re all better off without you.
You hate yourself for being that way.
You hate the fact that you care so much, but no one saw it that way.
You hate that maybe you could have done things differently.
But none of that changes the truth.
He needs me.
And I have to pick myself up and be there for him, even if I don’t know how to be the father I want to be yet.
I’ve already spoken to him. I told him:
“You don’t have to open up to me if you don’t want to. But if you need someone to talk to, I will get you help. I don’t want you carrying things inside the way I did.”
I don’t want him to grow up holding things in.
I don’t want him to learn how to bury his emotions instead of facing them.
So, whatever happens next, whatever I’m still fighting through—I know one thing.
He needs me. And I need to be there.
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This post was previously published on RAWANDUNFILTERED6.WORDPRESS.COM.
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Photo credit: iStock.com
