Fatherhood is a learned competence. Women become mothers the moment they know they are pregnant; men don’t become fathers until the birth of their child. And even then, the learning curve is huge. For me, I had one goal in raising my child: I wish for her to become a well-educated, well-adjusted, well-balanced individual who will eventually become independent of me as a parent. I’m partly there but still terrified that I will screw it up.

Setting aside all the physical needs a child requires to grow, I have provided, to the best of my abilities, all the requirements for healthy living for my daughter and left her wanting little. Some may call it indulgence but whether my daughter was born or not, I would still be living life the way we do now so indulging her wasn’t too much of an excess.

Setting aside all the educational and recreational needs a child requires to grow, I too, have provided, to the best of my abilities, all the child appropriate instructions, both formal and informal, so my daughter is fulfilled. This is a harder part because I am not the sole provider of this as she interacts with the world as much as she does with me.

And now the social and emotional development of my daughter is something that I know I am not able to teach directly and can only support vicariously in whatever conditions she shows up after her dealings with the world. It used to be simple: playdate squabbles have no consequence; girls of three are unimportant dilemmas and even middle school catfights are short-lived as new friends await.

 

I take a bit of comfort that she now feels she can disengage from me not because she needs to, but because she wants to. Ultimately, she will realize not only will she want to, but will need to do this for herself.

 

When my daughter was younger, I defined the boundaries of play. She can go to the park; she can go to the gym; she can go to her friend’s house. But whether she plays hide and seek or monkey bars or sits for board games is inconsequential to me. I simply enabled the venue and provided transportation and sometimes food. But now, she’s redrawing those boundaries and the nature of play is increasingly self-directed. Eventually, her ventures into the world will be met by the onslaught of boys. This is something I can only observe as a non-participant.

I would never begrudge my daughter for excluding me in her age-appropriate social plans, especially on weekends.  Neither would I want to helicopter her and her friends in this way. But I also can’t help but think that not too long ago, I had relished my scarce alone time which is now increasing involuntarily.

But at least now though, when my daughter returns from her outings, we have fresh stories for each other and our bonds seem to get stronger with increased absence. And although I may feel a spot of loneliness as she leaves the house for the day, I know that that is only possible because all her other needs are topped-up and she feels secure and confident in her connection to me in order to detach. So, in many ways, me being awash with temporary feelings of solitude is confirmation that my father / daughter relationships have strong connections.

I never knew what to expect from myself in this role and may never know for sure what my daughter expects from her father. But I take a bit of comfort that she now feels she can disengage from me not because she needs to, but because she wants to. Ultimately, she will realize not only will she want to, but will need to do this for herself.

I must be careful what I wish for.