There are days that I worry about the connection I have with my daughter. I don’t pretend to believe that this is unique to me. I would imagine that there are plenty of fathers out there that struggle to connect with their 13 year old daughters. I also know that this is not necessarily a bad thing. I don’t want to be my daughter’s best friend. It’s hard to be an effective parent when you’re focused on being your child’s friend. I know all of this, yet I still worry some days.
We share some common interests in music and the humanities. She’s a sensitive soul and beneath my hardened veneer, I very much am as well. Yet, as it almost always happens, I keep traversing further and further away from her orbit. Again, I rationally understand that this is expected. The pain is none the less real.
Thankfully, every now and then, I am reminded that I still occupy a space in her expanding universe. Last night, the three of us enjoyed a socially distanced dinner out to celebrate my birthday. Normally, this configuration will find our daughter sitting on the same side of the dining table as her mother, opposite of me. To be clear, this does not bother me in the least. I enjoy a little extra elbow room. Last night, she sat on my side of the table. On purpose. Because it was my birthday. She made a deliberate decision to sit next to me.
I know this may not seem like a ground breaking development. But it mattered to me. It mattered to this man that finds himself struggling more and more to remain relevant in his teenager’s world. I will take the win and I will place the trophy in the case to be revered in the days ahead, where wins may become an increased rarity.
The Curated Man 