Life without my kids? That wouldn’t be life at all. Through heartache, stress, anxiety, and depression, their smiles, their love—that’s the light that pulls me through the darkest days. And I’ve learned, that kind of love can’t be bought; it’s something you earn, day by day, moment by moment.
But let’s be real—sometimes, I’ve masked the pain. Alcohol has been my go-to, ever since I was young. And yeah, drugs have played their part too. I’m not proud of it, but I won’t lie and say I didn’t enjoy those experiences. They’ve led me to some deep reflections, expanded my mind in ways that traditional paths couldn’t, and oddly enough, made me connect with other dads who’ve felt lost along the way. We all carry our scars, but we don’t always talk about them.
Raising the boys with my partner has been though—It’s been a challenge. We are still figuring out how to guide them through life while we both are trying to find our own way through the chaos. But in doing so, I’ve had to confront something I never really accepted: that I’m neurodivergent, . I’m a special needs individual.
I live with OCD and a learning disability, I didn’t know I had, but it makes sense now that we have decided to reprogram ourselves and taken our healing journey.
It’s hard to see your own value when no one handed you a blueprint for life, other than “work hard, provide, repeat.”
But I’ve done that. I’ve hit those milestones, accomplished what they call the “American Dream.” But the cost? It’s been steep. It’s taken me time—time to reprogram my mind, my habits, my life, and realize there’s more to being a man than just providing.
Here I am at 43, still fighting to get this thing called parenthood right and be a good partner to my beautiful girl.
And despite all the missteps, I know I’ve done something right: I’ve passed on my love of music to my kids, given them experiences I never had growing up. I’ve fought for those family vacations, not just for fun, but to leave behind memories—memories of a time when Dad and Mom made it happen.
I may not have it all figured out, but I’m showing up every day. I’m fighting for them, fighting for myself, and learning that life is about accepting and embracing who you are; whether you’re neurodivergent or not; it’s about the love you give, the lessons you learn, and the journey you’re on. And that, to me, is something worth living for!
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