You're a good dad?

It was a good day. Got to share thanksgiving with a great friend and his family. I was welcomed as if I was one of them. Fun people. Good conversation. Just a warm feeling in general. Since the divorce, I think I’ve either spent thanksgivings working in the restaurant business or at the bar, working a bottle of jack daniels. So, it was kind of cool to break out of those ruts and get some time with family, even if it wasn’t mine.

One phrase stood out to me during my time. I was told, “Matt, you’re a great dad.” I’m sure I smiled and took the compliment. But, I was also a little unsure and said something like, “I'm not sure about that, but I know I like them.” I think that was me knowing that sure…sometimes I’m a great dad, but facebook gives a pretty incomplete picture of the reality. I’m sure I screw up things that I don’t even know I’m screwing up, but I do know that the kids and I enjoy being around each other. And ultimately, what I think or anybody else thinks about my parenting doesn’t matter in the end. It’s what the kids think and who they turn out to be.

I look back on my struggles as a human and I can honestly say I like who I am now, but that’s been a long time coming and it took a lot of undoing childhood nonsense to get to this point. Shutting my dad out was a big step for me in liking myself. I want to be my own man and I don’t want his influence on me or on my kids.

And since he’s been out of the picture, it’s so much easier to just focus on me. There are so many layers of issues with my dad, but the bottom line is that my whole life he’s made me uncomfortable. Like, the opposite feeling I had today walking into someone else’s family gathering. The host gave me a big hug when I got there and I said, “Your bastard son is home.” And off we went.

I get to do my thanksgiving with my kids tomorrow. I can’t wait. Just us enjoying traditional thanksgiving barbeque ribs, pulled pork and French fries from Oklahoma joes. We don’t really like turkey, so we eat what makes us happy. Fuck tradition.

I’ve decided to turn some of my family traditions around. To stand up. To hope the kids have a better life. To go not the same way that the religion I grew up with told me to go. Or to stuff feelings and not be real. Fuck all that. I want to talk through my shit. And I want the kids to know I’ll always be there to do that with them when issues come up.

I had a big moment that affects them come up this week. I defriended Sarita on facebook. I broke up with her in the first place to try to get my mental health back. The relationship had a lot of chaos. I was rereading some of my old journals from 3 years ago and it seems like there weren’t really many times where chaos didn’t exist with me and Sarita.

So, I chose to get back to being single. And my head is good. I like hanging out by myself. And I like having my head in a more clear state. I defriended Sarita to try to keep it that way. If I’d see her picture or a status or comment of hers on facebook, at times, that would be a threat to my mental health. And that’s just shit I don’t need.

Initially I think I intended it as kind of a fuck you. But, something else happened instead. At first, looking at her picture next to the add friend button led to insta tears. So much invested. So much lost. Just gut punches and how the hell did I deserve what I got type feelings.

But, as the days have passed since, I’ve noticed the anger begin to diminish. It’s nice to have made that symbolic gesture of unfriending her. I don’t know if you could look at the facts of what happened and say we were friends. But, instead of staying stuck in thoughts like that my head is more in a state of wishing her well.

It really is weird. I have a lot to be pissed off about. But, there’s this great feeling I have knowing that she’s not going to hurt me or the kids again. I stood up for my home and my family and the kids have and will continue to benefit from that.

and honestly I think Sarita will benefit from it too. she knows what she did. And living in “I can’t believe I did that” is pointless. It’s fixing it. And doing the work. And learning to love herself and heal her shit. And honestly, I think as long as we were together, that would have never happened.

So, I think there’s a lot to be thankful for across the board. I’m thankful to get my dad focus back on point. And to be out of the worst parts of my sadness and depression. I’m functioning again and enjoying life. And it’s pretty fucking great.

It’s crazy, but letting Sarita go…even on the internet…was again me picking the kids. What are the things that fuck with my head…my dad…Sarita…and others…so I’ve chosen to let them go live their own lives and protect the super fragile mental health that I battle every day to stay on top of.

An old middle school buddy made a beautiful post on facebook the other day. His dad is near the end of his life. And it was amazing to me that my friend had perspective, in his hour of sadness, as to how lucky he was to have a close relationship with his dad. That’s what I want for my kids. Someone telling me I’m a great dad is one thing, but to have my kids tell me that when I eventually move on from this life would mean the world.