It’s strange how life shapes the people we become, but I realize that so much of who I am is tied to my father. He’s not just a father; he’s something more — a little bit like a mom too, wrapped in warmth and strength. Growing up, I watched him take on both roles so naturally. He provided for me, of course, but it was more than that. He sweet-talked me in moments when I was too stubborn to listen to reason, and he took care of me in ways that made me feel like I was his entire world.
I remember the way he’d come home after a long day of work, tired but still smiling. He’d make sure I had everything I needed before even thinking of himself. Whether it was food, advice, or just a hug when I was having a rough day, he was always there. His hands were strong, calloused from years of hard work, but when he brushed my hair out of my face, they felt gentle, like nothing could ever hurt me as long as he was around.
Sometimes, it feels like he’s both my protector and my confident. There’s something about the way he talks to me, not just with words but with a quiet understanding. It’s kind of sweet talk that only someone who truly knows you can give. When I doubt myself or feel overwhelmed, his voice has this way of bringing me back to a place where everything feels a little more manageable.
He’s always known how to take care of me, in ways that go beyond the typical father figure. It’s like he knew that I’d need someone who could be both soft and strong nurturing but firm. And in that, I’ve learned what love should feel like. I’ve always thought that I I were to love someone, they’d have to love me a little like my father does. Not exactly like him — maybe just a bit — but in that makes feel cared for, listened to, and safe.
There are days when I think about how lucky I am, to have him as both my father and mother. He’s more than just a provider; he’s the one who has shaped the way I see love, care, and strength. If I could find someone to love me like he does — maybe just a bit like him — I know I’d be in good hands.
But even if I don’t, I’ve realized one thing for sure: I already know what it feels like to be loved in the best way possible. Because I’ve had that all along — like my father.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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Photo credit: Janusz Maniak on Unsplash
