Being Let Down... Part of My Own Journey

I was looking forward to a weekend with my Dad and a few of his friends. My bags were packed and I was ready to set out. What could be better than camping in the woods with a fire, steak, guns, and a couple of beers, right? So tell me why I left Sunday feeling empty and weighed down?

I don't think it's because I didn't have a great time... I don't think it's because I didn't enjoy hanging out with my dad... I don't think it's because I had paperwork waiting for me when I got home... I think I was reminded once again that I didn't fit the world's mold concerning manliness, and I left feeling discouraged.

In Gordon Dalbey's book, Healing the Masculine Soul (probably my all time-favorite and the most influential book of my life), he makes the claim that men bestow masculinity on other men. The father's role is so critical in his young son's life, and in homes where the father doesn't bestow this vital attribute on his son (either through physical or emotional absence), he leaves behind in the wake a displaced and broken son. Now, those sons can find ways to seek out masculinity and some have success, but it is a difficult road. Some overcompensate for their undeveloped or confused masculine identity, hiding the insecurities they bury inside. The truth is there is usually a wound there... This was me...

I physically had my father in my home, but for some reason, we didn't connect when I was growing up... or at least not in the masculine-bestowing, important ways. I guess I was a mama's boy - more emotional and creative, empathetic, always trying to befriend those who were outcasts, and trying to put an end to arguments or disputes. The truth is I was hurt. I searched for masculinity and found it foreign and in some ways undesirable. I tried to do things to make my dad proud of me... I tried hunting, fishing, golf, soccer, getting good grades... none of these things mended that relationship or brought me fulfillment or success. I have a lot of memories of feeling hurt and left out... one is still so vivid I still feel like that little kid...

I was probably 11, and we were at our family's cabin (not really a cabin, but we called it that). I grew up shooting .22 rifles at beer and soda cans, and that day I was going to shoot the big gun - my dad's .410 shotgun. I was bundled up in layers upon layers, wearing a big heavy coat... I was filled with anticipation. I was scared... but I wanted to be a man, and I wanted my dad to be proud of me. I pulled the trigger... the sound and the kick the gun produced really scared me... I started crying... my dad waved me off as if to say I was worthless, then turned around and walked away. I felt worthless... I felt like a failure... (hello core belief) I continued crying and ran inside to my mom... That is the only time I have ever shot a .410. It was only last year that I shot another shotgun, and I will be 29 this year.

I am still dealing with that loss today - and it is a loss.

About 10 years ago, after reading Dalbey's book, I felt I needed to confront my dad about his lack of involvement, and his failure to call me into manhood and instill confidence in me. I don't know how I ever did it, but I did. I also know how lucky I am that his response wasn't a right hook. We cried... and cried... and hugged, and that moment changed both my life and our relationship. My dad still at times doesn't understand how to call me into manhood, but he is more intentional about telling me how proud he is of me, and we really enjoy connecting by hanging out, working on cars, or sharing a beer or a cigar (all of which I tried in attempts to connect with him).

Fast forward to this weekend... everything was going fine, I was excited but also filled with emotion, as I was driving my granddad's car (he passed away a few months ago) to that same family cabin from the story above. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry... The day went well... we were assessing the cabin to see what needed to be done to fix it up, then we headed back to his friend's property a few hours away to spend the night. Everything was going great, I was really enjoying myself, but then things changed. The more my dad and his friends drank, the more vulgar and crude they got. They pulled out a deck of cards which exploited a different naked girl on each card... I was done. I went to bed. I put ear plugs in but I could still hear pretty much everything they said; I got out my phone and started up a white-noise app, pressing the phone up to my ear - this was how I slept. The next day, something just seemed different... My expectations had been shot to pieces (no pun intended).

When talking through this with a friend, he pointed out I may have subconsciously viewed this as a chance to redeem myself from my experience as an 11 year-old boy. In many ways I feel that I did kind of expect that. I wanted to fit in and be 'one of the guys' but I realized the man I keep trying to be isn't the man I am called to be. When I am not careful, I forget my dad is like me - wounded. Objectively, I can see he was just trying to fit in with his friends, after all this is how he 'did' manliness growing up. I am saddened and hurt for my dad at times like this.

I have edited and read through this countless times... talked about it with my wife and a close friend as I already mentioned. I am sensitive to the fact that this is pretty raw and the last thing I want to do is make my dad out to be the villain. He is NOT the villain. I love my dad and am thankful for all the wonderful things he has taught me. He has modeled honesty, integrity, abundant generosity, and a hard work ethic, to name a few. I know many others did not have their father at all, and to those guys, I hope that this post doesn't make me sound ungrateful that I did have my dad... As I mentioned before, my dad and I have addressed a lot of these things, and so I'm not going behind his back posting stuff about him out of vengeance or anything. I do, however, know that other men have similar experiences and this is my attempt at sharing a raw event which reminded me that when we expect perfection and fulfillment in anyone other than the GodMan, we will be let down.