barnumandbailey
01-27-2022, 08:00 AM
Affectionate father-son relationships are vital in the formation of well-adjusted young men. This affection is of a subtle, dignified nature, and occurs in tandem with the instillment of masculine virtues — those of hard work, discipline, and rational thought.
This is an experience that I have missed out on. Granted, my father loves me very much — he just has never been around for me. We’ve never had a friendly game of catch in the backyard, nor have we ever gone fishing together. Both of my parents were (and still are, to an extent) workaholics, and the duty of childcare was always relegated to either a series of nannies or after-school programs. Don’t get me wrong: I am advantaged in every other way. There is little cause for me to complain. I just wish that I had a father.
Another impediment to our relationship is my being an adopted child; no matter how hard he may try to convince himself otherwise, he knows that we are not of the same blood. There is always going to be that unbridgeable gap between us. I am envious of those men who have had the fortune of being raised by their biological fathers — mine is, quite likely, entirely unaware of my existence. That stings. A lot.
I have never had a father figure — no man to look up to; I’ve always ‘existed’, drifting through life and adjusting to the circumstances as necessary. Little direction. Is it really any wonder that I struggle with my sexuality?
Regardless of whichever grievances I consider myself to be the victim of, I will have a family someday, and I will be a father to my sons. Through them I will be able to understand a dynamic which is currently alien to me. I’ll die for them.
This is an experience that I have missed out on. Granted, my father loves me very much — he just has never been around for me. We’ve never had a friendly game of catch in the backyard, nor have we ever gone fishing together. Both of my parents were (and still are, to an extent) workaholics, and the duty of childcare was always relegated to either a series of nannies or after-school programs. Don’t get me wrong: I am advantaged in every other way. There is little cause for me to complain. I just wish that I had a father.
Another impediment to our relationship is my being an adopted child; no matter how hard he may try to convince himself otherwise, he knows that we are not of the same blood. There is always going to be that unbridgeable gap between us. I am envious of those men who have had the fortune of being raised by their biological fathers — mine is, quite likely, entirely unaware of my existence. That stings. A lot.
I have never had a father figure — no man to look up to; I’ve always ‘existed’, drifting through life and adjusting to the circumstances as necessary. Little direction. Is it really any wonder that I struggle with my sexuality?
Regardless of whichever grievances I consider myself to be the victim of, I will have a family someday, and I will be a father to my sons. Through them I will be able to understand a dynamic which is currently alien to me. I’ll die for them.