I just spent the last hour typing up a post to put in !squaredcircle@lemmy.zip about how I observed a beautiful moment with a father and his 3 year old son.
The son was a fan of a wrestler named L.A. Knight. And he was set to make his grand entrance, and have his match, live in front of 57k people.
We were in the stadium, in line for merchandise. The line was really long. So the dad realized they would miss L.A Knight’s match.
Logically the smart thing to do is bring your son back to your seats. Give up your place in line, and try later. Or evdn online later.
Instead, this dad, who was clearly also a fan of L.A Knight, and wanted to see him asked his son: “Do you want to stay in line? Or go see L.A Knight?”
And the kid picked staying in line. The dad confirmed with him “If you stay in line, you’ll miss L.A Knight in the ring. He’s coming out now.”
And the kid chose to stay in line to get L.A Knight merch.
And the whole moment was beautiful to me. The idea of a dad respecting his kids opinion is foreign to me.
I grew up with my dad telling me to shut up and do it his way. Always his way. Still to this day, it’s always his way. My mom left him because he was controlling. My sisters (who are not his kids, but he helped raise them) don’t talk to him because of how he treated them.
I’m 40, and now he’s elderly, and I barely talk to him. Sometimes I feel guilty until moments like this. Where I’m reminded that still to this day I don’t speak up when I should. I don’t ask for help when I need it. I just suffer in silence, just as I always do.
There have even been times in the past where calling 911 for someone else having an emergancy was the right thing to do. Hearing gunshots on your street. Seeing a woman hanging out of a car screaming for help. But not calling 911, because nobody wants to hear what I have to say. Nobody wants to hear from me.
And at Summerslam, I see this kid saying he wants to stay in line. And the dad just confirms, and explains the consequences that he’ll miss L.A Knight, but the kid insisted on staying in line. Despite it not being the smart choice. It was the “wrong” choice. If I were in that position, my dad would have ended it with zero input on my end. But here this dad was respecting his sons choice. His three year old son.
And as I typed to a wrestling community what I intended to be a beautiful story, I realized it’s only beautiful to me because of my own repressed perspective. Everybody else just would hear a story about a normal dad doing normal dad things. Loving his son. Respecting his son.
And nobody would get why that would make me cry.
So I deleted the story before I posted it, and began to realize that even though I’m 40, and should be past all this, it still hurts, and I’m a deeply broken person.
And now I’m wondering, has anyone else had these moments where they realize that they’ve just been repressing pain for 30 years to the point where a normal loving relationship can cause jealousy, but also an intense heartwarming moment?
I don’t know how to describe it. That moment was just 10 minutes out of this kids life that he’ll not remember. The dad won’t deem it important, so he won’t remember this by now. It was a meaningless moment that in a loving relationship happens everyday. But to me, the idea of a dad respecting his son making a “wrong decision” had me supressing anger, sadness, and heartwarming joy, but also knowing how weird I was for that. And so I shut up, and repressed it. Only in trying to retell a heartwarming story did I realize it was coming across as bitter and jealous, and thats when I realized thats MY issue. And I don’t know where to go from here.
Have you ever had a moment like this?
You aren’t broken. It sounds like a broken man raised you.
I grew up without a father; no positive male influence. It took me a long time to reach a point where I could accept it wasn’t me that was broken, it was the negative thought cycle I was habitually stuck in.
Taking a step back and seeing the good in the world, the small moments, for what they are (which I think you are doing?) Rather than viewing positive moments as a reflection of my own negativity, I am learning to view these positive moments as positive. Realisations of what I didn’t have but knowing I am living my life better than the ones that came before me.
A deeply personal anecdote - I am an alcoholic. I’ve been in AA for a while now, and have been sober for that time. I’ve grown and moved on from needing alcohol to feel normal.
My fathers side of the family, including him when he was alive, are unrepentant alcoholics. I don’t feel bitter or hateful anymore - instead I see it as being the only one in that family tree to actually break out of that cycle.
I have needed to spend a lot of time in therapy to help me reach this point.
Best of luck - you aren’t broken. just hurt
FWIW, that father may have grown up with a father just like you. He just made different choices. Just like you can see that those are different choices. You could and probably will make different choices too, it’s the only way we ever change. It’s not by retroactively having perfect circumstances. It’s by choosing to be better each day moving forward.
Also, as a 40+ year old myself it’s always important to take a clear stock of the ways you’re similar to your parents (I find more every day) and also the myriad ways you are your own individual.
You had a moment of clarity where your true Self was able to be present and witness the good in the world. This is huge and you should know that a random internet stranger is proud of you for noticing. It is the first step to starting to heal your own inner parts who are still carrying that trauma from decades ago. The next step is to try to bring that enlightenment and understanding inside yourself. Congratulations on your new wisdom!
Yes, I can relate. Not only that but it’s more common than you think.
Broken is a good word to describe the feeling, but not the reality. If you can afford it, taking with a good psychotherapist (I would choose a psychodynamic one as opposed to something like CBT), can help you use the unbroken in yourself to heal that feeling and the perspectives that emerge from it.
It’s important because the perspectives that emerge from it create even more unpleasant feelings. It’s like a cascade.
I’m soon gonna turn 42 this September. My father passed away a little over 10 years ago ☹️
But guess what? Me and my roommate decided to adopt Brownie the stray dog!
Someone else adopted Patches as well.
I can’t tell if you adopted your late fathers dog, or decided to get a dog because of his passing
We adopted a stray dog from our city park. It’s only more or less coincidence that it’s right after the 10th anniversary after my father’s passing.
I know my father would have done the same, he’s a really good pup, very well behaved and pretty smart too. I believe he used to be someone’s service dog.
That’s awesome. My dog has helped me mentally so much. She’s smart but stubborn. Still wants to do what she wants even though she knows the commands
A few weeks ago, a mom was at the hardware store with her young son – he was about five years old.
For some reason, we crossed paths a few times, And each time she was talking with her son about the things they were buying in the projects that they were buying them for. But what Caught my attention first was he asked her ‘What if we can’t do it?’ and she responded with ‘Well then we learned how because we can figure it out.’
This woman was endlessly, encouraging towards her son, and it was clear that she was setting him up to have an attitude of feeling like he was capable of tackling things in life. Which is something that I didn’t get us a kid - I was often told that I couldn’t do things or the things were beyond my capability and that if my mom didn’t know how to do something that it was basically impossible for me to figure out how to do it as well.I was so impressed by their interaction, that when I saw her later while I was checking out, I actually said something to her and after she figured out I wasn’t trying to pick her up, she took a moment and like… just looked satisfied. I was happy with the interaction.
Beyond the fact that I mostly grew up without a father and my mother was very self focused to the point that it was pretty detrimental to me, I also grew up with undiagnosed ADHD that I only learned about in my early 40s. I am constantly discovering ways that I feel broken in the world, so you are not alone.
My dad broke the cycle. Late in life he told me a story about myself.
We were in a park. I ran up and asked for something and he said no. I ran off and then came back, asking again but in some other way, this time he let ne do whatever it was.
His mother, a deeply religious schoolteacher, was sitting nearby, and after I ran off she criticized him for changing his mind, told him parents should never do that.
I think he told me that story for at least one reason.
Any person’s awareness can benefit others.
Yeah, it started to really hit me when my friends starting having kids. I’d see them being so kind and patient and actually giving a shit about what their kids think and how their kids feel. It’s both beautiful and heartbreaking; beautiful to see that this is exactly how a parent should be, and heartbreaking cause little me never had -and will never have- that experience. I feel like this plus getting older has made me realize just how bad my childhood really was. Like, I knew it was bad when it was happening, but I don’t think I could grasp just how bad it was without some distance and perspective.
I haven’t found myself jealous over kids who have it better than me, but I’ve found I am envious of people who’ve had at least one decent parent in their corner. Both of mine were horrible people. And on top of the abuse: ADHD (undiagnosed until recently), depression, bad anxiety, CPTSD (from the childhood), and possibly autism but no one seems to want to test an adult so I may never know. And the worst part is realizing, in hindsight and through therapy, that my mom knew. She fucking knew how mentally unwell I was, and not only did she do nothing to help, she would use the threat of having me committed to manipulate me. So fucked up. ugh.
So yeah I’m fully aware of the ways I’m broken, and I’ll probably be in therapy for the rest of my life over it. Anyway, we deserved better. Everyone deserves a safe childhood with caring parents, everyone. Even you.
Ajahn Brahm speaks about this pain: growing pains. The suffering that accompanies development. It’s related to the realization of something. Everyone goes through it.
Becoming a parent has been one long strong of these moments. By doing the right things for my child, I get reminded of just how bad my childhood was, and it’s hard. But I’m determined to give them a better life than I had, to break the cycle.
You are absolutely not alone in this… I have these moments frequently. I’m also fairly sure that level of parenting is also quite uncommon.
This made me cry, btw
I’m in my 50’s. Both my parents passed this year. I didn’t go to either funeral. I felt nothing but anger at them. I did finally start going to therapy. My parents were different in their abuse but the same in that they never once in my life apologizes for any wrong they committed. It was physical abuse until I became physically stronger. Then it was nothing but mental abuse for the rest of my life. Admitting it hurts and admitting that its the source of your anger is good for you.
My parents like many didn’t “believe” in therapy. For good reason as it turns out. They knew they are guilty of abuse and feared exposure. Give it at least a couple of tries. If you don’t like the therapist you see. See another one. Be prepared to hear things you will not like. Acknowledge your pain is driving negative emotions and keep trying to not let it rule you.
The best luck is the luck you make.
Children are people, so consent and respect goes really far when raising mentally balanced people.
I had a similar relationship with my father. He was an alcoholic. These days I don’t have much of a relationship with him. I recognize that he’s a better person now that he’s older, but I don’t really see him as “dad”. Just “father”.
My mom sometimes asks if I will regret not spending more time with him. Honestly, I’m not sure I would. I don’t have many fond memories with him at all. It’s weird saying this knowing that I have a father who loves me in his own way when others might not have one at all.
Never knowing my father, i was raised by a stepfather. He never spoke to me. Other than to demand i perform some task and then explaining how badly i had completed it… He never spoke to me. He never taught me how to. Ride a bike, throw a ball, shave, drive, or any of the things a dad should teach a son. I know almost nothing of his life… He never spoke to me
