Becoming the Man I Want To See in the World

I'll be the role model I didn't have

To the deep thinkers,

Welcome to the Deep Thinkers Newsletter: A collection of essays dedicated to going beyond the surface.

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During my most recent therapy session, my therapist asked me to talk about some of the male role models I remember from my youth. During this moment of reflection, I realized the pool of men who’d positively affected my life was shallow. Very, very, shallow. And I felt a deep sadness over this revelation.

My biological father left when I was still a baby, forcing my mom to play both roles in my life. That was until she married the man who became my stepfather. Unfortunately, my relationship with my stepfather was a very toxic one and the source of a lot of my childhood trauma. As I entered adolescence, I did everything I could to avoid him. And when I left home to go to college, I learned to be self-sufficient without a male figure to lean on for support or advice.

I learned to adapt to my environment and circumstances the best way I could. It’s all I ever knew how to do. So when my therapist brought up the subject of positive male role models it opened a wound in my heart that I’d been ignoring. I nearly broke down, feeling like I’d been robbed of something essential to my development.

The emotions were almost too much to bear, but then my therapist said something that connected so deeply and has been playing on a loop in my head since. He told me to, “Be the kind of man you want to see in the world.”

The weight of this sentence sits on my mind in a way that’s almost impossible to explain. But as always, when you’re a writer, the best way to make sense of complex emotions and feelings is to let the words flow. After a ton of reflection, I’ve come to understand what it means to be the kind of man I want to see in the world.

Maybe my interpretation can help you on your own journey.

Wishing things were different is a waste of time

You won’t always get what you wish for. This is a lesson I’ve learned the hard way several times in my life. Sometimes I think the lesson will never stick. I regret a lot. I am ashamed a lot. I get stuck in the past a lot.

I often lose myself in a state of nostalgic fury, marooned in a mirage of my past, revisiting moments that have long passed and can no longer be changed. I sometimes wish my life had gone in a different direction. To have grown up in a different city. To have made different (better?) choices. To have lived my entire life differently.

I live in my mind more than my body. I escape into my mental world more than experiencing the tangible world around me. I’ve always felt more comfortable doing this. I guess it’s just the best way I’ve known to help me cope with the pain I carry.

But I’m working on being more present. To tune into my body and to melt into each moment as it’s happening. Wishing for your life to be different, rather than using your energy to craft the life you want in the present is a recipe for a life wasted. We can’t delete or edit our past experiences. We can’t change our origin story. Our memories are fixed.

I didn’t grow up with many positive male role models in my life. I can’t change that now. I can only accept it and understand that I’m writing new chapters of my life every day. No point in obsessing over the chapters that have already been published.

The father force

Be the man you want to see in the world.

A decent world is created through the decent actions of those living in it. We improve the world by improving ourselves. For those of us who come from broken homes, we have the power to break that chain of trauma and suffering. When we become the decent people we wish we’d seen in our homes, then we create a new cycle. A cycle of love.

The lack of a positive male role model/father figure has eaten away at me for most of my life. I had to learn to be a man through trial and error. I had to go out into the world and fail…a lot. I had to find wisdom and guidance in unconventional places.

My future children will have to one day go out into the world and learn to fend for themselves as well. But they’ll also have me in their lives, passing along all that I’ve learned, and making sure that they are loved and supported.

I often envied the kids I knew who grew up with their fathers in their lives. Fathers who spent time with them. Who introduced them to hobbies or created lasting memories and traditions with them. Fathers who provided guidance. Fathers who helped them navigate the pitfalls of romantic relationships and financial decisions.

I lacked what author, David Deida calls “the father force.” According to Deida in his book The Way Of The Superior Man:

“The father force is the force of loving challenge and guidance.”

“Without this masculine force in your life, your direction becomes unchecked, and you are liable to meander in the mush of your own ambiguity and indecision.”

That’s what it felt like for so long. Like I was stuck in the mush, incapable of standing firm in my own energy. Always looking backward. Lacking conviction. Nestled in ambiguity. But I’ve had to make changes.

Instead of obsessing over what I didn’t have, I’ve begun to focus on what I do have, right now in the present. The more I lean into this version of myself—the one who’s grateful and at peace over the past—the more I heal. And the more I heal, the better chance I have at embodying the type of role model I needed in my life when I was a child.

Becoming the man I want to see

Despite the struggles in my childhood and adolescence, I’m here. I’m blessed to have the chance to let these words flow out of me, digging into the recesses of my psyche and healing my emotional wounds.

I’ve learned a lot about what it means to be a decent man. I’ve learned many lessons from my own mistakes and the mistakes of others. Even more, I’m grateful for my mom who showed me what it means to be resilient and to reject victimhood. There have been times (in my moments of weakness) when I have lost sight of her lessons. But every day that I wake up and draw breath is an opportunity to steer the ship back on course.

I’m here, scars and all—but intact and better for it. I’ve made it this far and I’ll go even further so that I can embody the father force I missed in my life. I’m not here to wish for the past to have been different or to wallow in self-pity. My biological father’s leaving was not in my control. My stepfather treating me poorly was not in my control. But what has always been in my control is becoming the man I want to be. This alone is a blessing. One that I can’t take for granted.

Like Marcus Aurelius said:

“Waste no more time arguing what a good man should be. Be one.”

Working with my therapist. Venturing into the catacombs of my psyche and facing my past traumas. Communicating more and taking on more responsibility to help the people I love.

These are all the ways I’m working toward becoming the man I want to see in the world. I can’t change what happened in my past. But I have the power to write the story of my future, and I won’t waste the opportunity.

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What stood out to me this week:

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On the lies we tell ourselves:

“People hooked on a risky behavior (e.g. gambling, smoking) reassure themselves they’ll be able to quit while ahead (before bankruptcy, lung cancer). However, their future-self tends to act a lot like them, so if they can't quit now, they likely won't quit later when they’re even deeper in.”

—Gurwinder, The Prism

How many times have you been stuck in the clutches of a harmful vice? Something you’re ashamed of, but can’t seem to quit. Do you lie to yourself about your ability to conquer this vice “before things get too out of hand”? It’s a lie addicts tell themselves. It’s the lie we tell ourselves when we’re procrastinating. It’s simply…a lie.

If you’re not changing your behaviors, then in a day, a week, or a year from now you’ll be in the same boat. Quitting “someday” might as well mean quitting never. Address these vices today, before it’s too late.

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On the artist/athlete paradox:

There’s something that I love so much about paradox—when something shouldn’t be but is. When a process works counter to our expectations but still manages to yield amazing results. One paradox that I’ve been obsessed with lately is the paradox of the artist/athlete. Many people think you’re either one or the other. But this is a fallacy.

Just as an artist has to navigate the dark place during a bout with writer’s block or a lack of motivation, an athlete has to learn to fight through the dark place on their final lap, or the fourth quarter of a game, or on the final set of an intense workout. Let your artistic spirit feed into your athletic spirit and you’ll gain a better understanding of yourself as a person.

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🎵Song of the week:

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And as always,

—Stay blessed

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Thank you for your time—feel free to let me know how this post resonated with you or share it with a friend: