Chapter 1: The Weight of Expectation

As a single father, I often grapple with the feeling that my efforts may not be enough.

It's possible that I might be deceiving myself by claiming I'm giving it my all. We all engage in self-deception at times, but the most troubling lies are those we aren't even aware we're telling ourselves. The human psyche is a remarkable entity. It has the capability to achieve incredible feats, like constructing towering skyscrapers or launching missions to the moon, yet it also allows us to rationalize our most undesirable traits. I often remind my students that individuals who commit harmful acts frequently don't perceive their actions as wrong.

While I strive to be the best dad I can be, I can never be entirely certain of my success.

I don't seek that certainty. Ironically, it's often those who are convinced they are doing their utmost who may be falling short. I refuse to be one of those individuals.

However, I also want to avoid being overly harsh on myself. Martin Luther famously punished himself at God's altar for his human failings, believing it would earn him favor. I doubt that the God I believe in would appreciate such self-flagellation. If your God requires that level of suffering, I want no part of that divinity.

I prefer to believe that humanity was created to experience the profound power of love—both towards others and ourselves.

After all, transformative love isn't necessary for those who are flawless. If perfection exists, what would need to change?

My sense of inadequacy intensified following my divorce; I never felt like a significant failure until then.

Perhaps this realization is part of personal growth. Growth may simply be the acknowledgment that we are not as remarkable as we once thought and recognizing a better version of ourselves that lies within, waiting to be uncovered, layer by layer, like an onion.

Last night, my children caught a glimpse of that better version when I sincerely apologized for my moments of anger and for feeling like I had disappointed them.

It was humbling for a man of 39 to apologize to his 7- and 10-year-old kids, but humility fosters renewal and life. Conversely, arrogance and a refusal to accept responsibility can suffocate relationships and lead to their demise.

Consider why some marriages falter and ultimately fail. We often choose contempt, self-righteousness, and ego over grace, compassion, and curiosity.

I don't wish to perpetuate that cycle with my children. Instead, I opted to apologize, and the beautiful outcome was that my kids responded with openness and affection like never before.

For today, I plan to heed Brené Brown's wisdom: I will choose to believe that I and those around me are doing the best we can.

As she wisely points out, failing to do so risks my heart becoming hardened, leading to bitterness and judgment. That sounds incredibly toxic. Perhaps that's what hell truly is—a prison we construct for ourselves, one where we hold the keys yet refuse to escape.

No, I reject that notion.

I choose to embrace the duality of existence: I am doing my best, and I can always strive to improve.

Chapter 2: Embracing Vulnerability

In my journey, I have come across numerous insights that resonate deeply with my experiences as a single father.

Advice for all fathers (from a single dad)

This video offers valuable advice from a single dad’s perspective, shedding light on the challenges and triumphs of fatherhood.

I Became a Single Dad for 36 HOURS

This video provides a humorous yet poignant look at the experiences of single fatherhood, highlighting both the struggles and joys that come with the role.