Your Wife is a Daughter Too

I love getting emails from men who ask great questions and make astute observations that clarify, corroborate and confirm.

Here’s one such email I received from a man named Dave [who gave me permission to share this publicly], followed by my response. Dave’s insights inspired me to write this blog since I couldn’t have said it any better!

Dr. Watson,

Love your Dad Whisperer podcast! Your coaching has encouraged me and helped improve my relationship with my 13-year old daughter and I hope and pray that I set her up for successful adult relationships. And as I've listened, I’ve had a realization. Turns out my wife was a daughter once too! She had a difficult relationship with her alcoholic father who divorced her mother when my wife was in her late teens. He died of his affliction a few years later and my wife never reconciled.

Now I know this isn't a marriage counseling service, and I'm certainly not trying to be a father to my wife, BUT is there an opportunity for me specifically (and other husbands in general) to do something positive and affirming for our wives, using these awesome dad-daughter tools you've given us? I can't fix her; she and God are going to have to work those things out. But maybe I can help? Or at least make it easier?

I love my wife very much and any opportunity to become a better husband is probably the best, first step to becoming a better father.

Thank you! Most sincerely & respectfully yours, Dave

Hi Dave,

I absolutely agree with you and LOVE that you’re seeing that your wife is a daughter too. You have made a revelatory link. Well done in being aware that her own “dad wounds” and/or “dad deficits” aren’t yours to heal or fix, but that you’re invested in being a man of integrity who loves his wife dearly.

I want to highlight two questions you raised: “But maybe I can help? Or at least make it easier?” With your sensitivity towards your wife’s history, I assume you’ve invited her to share stories about her relationship with her dad. By asking her to open up about her losses, you are already doing both of those things - helping her and making it easier - by giving her space to be heard, validated, believed, and supported.

You mentioned that you could “use these awesome dad-daughter tools you've given us” with your wife. To that I say, “YES!” I would encourage you to take the scripts in Let’s Talk: Conversation Starters for Dads and Daughters and ask your wife to answer them as if she was talking about her dad. This will allow her to process more than she may even know is still held inside her, ready to be released as you are a safe witness to her story.

Here’s a reality about us as women: When we open our mouths, our hearts open. So by encouraging your wife to talk and share vulnerably with you, you are leading her into an interactive experience that is positive and safe. And though she never reconciled with her father, she has an opportunity now to work towards some kind of resolution within herself.

One last thought. Many women have told me how they have found hope and comfort seeing their husband treat their girls with love, dignity, and respect. So the way you treat your daughter provides a model that can bring vicarious healing to your wife. Even more, as you walk your talk, she gets to see and feel what it’s like for a daughter to interact with her dad, which could revitalize the way she interacts with God as her Father.

As you set an example for the next generation, you also affirm your wife who gave you the privilege of becoming a father.

Thanks so much for taking the time to write. I love interacting with courageous men like you. Keep up the great work!

Sincerely, Dr. Michelle

He Came, In Pieces: A Guest Blog by Taylor Smith (Copy)

Taylor Smith is a dear friend, a true inspiration, and a gifted communicator. I invited her to write a guest blog today to shed light on what it’s like to navigate life after the death of her father. She reminds us that the legacy we leave behind speaks powerfully even after we’re gone. 
~Michelle

I got a call from you today.

Well, sort of.

“Hi, Taylor. I came across a file of your dads. Looks like it contains some personal things. I thought you might like to have it.”

“What? I mean, yes. Yes. I would like to have it. I would love to have it, actually.”

“Great. I’m glad I was able to track you down, Taylor. I hope all is well.”

CLICK.

Dad, that is so your style,
unannounced,
coming in right outta the middle of nowhere,
all of your 78-inches somehow stuffed into this bulky, white envelope, which my fingers gripped so tight my knuckles turned white.

I wasn’t expecting you to arrive this way.

I mean, I think about you every day, but I didn’t think I’d be sitting on my living room floor, holding onto what I could only assume were
pieces of you,
in some forgotten file folder that was left in a sea of other forgotten file folders somewhere in a closet.

But here it was.
Here you were.
Uninvited and undeniably commanding the center of my attention in a matter of seconds
in a way that no one else could.

When I slid my finger under the envelope’s opening, I was holding my breath.
And I’m pretty sure I still wasn’t breathing when I tipped the envelope down and a red folder slid into my lap.

Open it, Taylor. Come on. Just do it.

But it’s not that easy, you see.
Because it wasn’t just a matter of opening a folder that contained some of my dad’s things –

Opening this folder also meant opening up part of my soul,
the deep, hidden part that craves just one more day,
one more hour
to create a last precious father-daughter memory.
And that’s a really raw place to tear open.
So it’s really not that easy.

But I did it.

The first piece of paper was a letter circa early 2000.
The letterhead stated Arkansas Swimming Hall of Fame.

It said,
“Dear Arthur, as you know, because of your outstanding contribution to the sport of swimming in the state of Arkansas, you have been inducted into the Arkansas Swimming Hall of Fame.”

Whoa. Hold up. Dad, this is a BIG DEAL. Why didn’t you tell me about this??

The letter went on to talk about my dad’s swimming career, most of which I already knew, but when it was there, printed on this formal letter, it made my eyes go wide, my heart swell with pride.

Dad, you were the dark horse, the unheard of swimmer who somehow conquered it all. You were nationally ranked, a five-time All American. You were a champion.

You were so much more than a swimmer, Dad, but I am so proud that you didn’t let your inexperience in the swimming world hold you back. You did it. You worked so hard and you made your mark.

So with this mysterious folder, business was off to a good start. But who knew what else was buried in the pile.

Mechanically, I reached for the next thing in the stack- a card “For a Son Who’s Loved So Much.”

It was a “just because” card from my dad’s mom, who I called my nana.

Nana and I weren’t super close. We never really had the opportunity to be, living more than a thousand miles apart. To tell you the truth, I always thought that I would never be able to relate to her – a sophisticated Southern woman and me, a prank-loving, spontaneous-dancing, free-spirit child.

But reading her words allowed me to learn more about my nana –and her relationship to her son, my dad- than I had ever known.

“Words cannot express my love for you – it grows every year, if that is even possible. How I cherish the loving memories of your childhood (rosy red cheeks that looked as good as apples)… You are my Guardian Angel.”

Wow, Dad. You and nana must have been really close. I know I didn’t know her very well, but she really loved you. I’m so glad that you were so loved by your mom – that she thought the world of you. Because you so deserved that, Dad. You really did.

The next few things were business documents that didn’t mean much to me,
but behind those pages were what I had been hoping for, yet not hoping for,
the really personal stuff.

The stack of cards that I was holding in my hands wasn’t just my dad,
it was my mom, too – letters she had written him from their nearly 15 years of marriage.

I tell you, this folder was the most beautiful gift.

I learned a lot about my dad,
about some things that he was too humble to share,
about him as a son and as a husband,
a man who was deeply loved, deeply passionate, and all together, deeply deep.
Yup. That was my dad. One deep dude.

I finished reading the cards and closed the folder, only wishing that there had been just a few more cards, a few more keepsakes or napkin-scribbled notes that could bring more of him back to me.

When you lose someone you love, there are
days when your heart is heavy,
days when you just need a good cry, or scream,
days when you are angry at their not being there,
days when your memories of them bring you this amazing warmth,
days when you shout thanksgiving praise that you even got to know them at all.

Then there are days like this one,
when you receive the blessing of a mysterious file folder, filled with things you never would have asked for -had a genie granted you five wishes- and you find yourself rolling on the floor, laughing, thinking that

I have the best dad ever. Thank you, God. Thank you for this moment, too. I will always remember it. I will always remember you, Dad.

Love, Taylor

Transfer of Power

You can breathe a sigh of relief because I promise you that this isn’t a political post! I’m only using this concept as a reference point to talk about fathering.

Let me ask you a question: What comes to mind when you read the three words in the title of this blog, Transfer of Power?

I’m guessing that your immediate thought ties to a change of position or roles between political leaders or administrative parties. That’s what comes to mind when I hear those words too.

During our recent election season I heard this phrase used repeatedly. And because my mind is always thinking about fathers and daughters, I found myself pondering how a similar dynamic happens (or should be happening) in homes when it comes to preparing kids to launch. Just to clarify, I’m referencing that time when a daughter (or son) officially heads into adulthood around the age of 18. 

There really is a transfer of power, especially when she (or he) steps out from under the parental roof. 

Since this child-to-adult transition is inevitable, the question I pose to you as dads is this:

What steps are you taking to prepare your daughter to be independent, confident, and self-assured as she moves into adulthood?

Here’s one way to build a framework that addresses this question as taught to me by a colleague whose insight was honed from raising two children, as well as hosting 100 foster teenagers. 

“By the age of 18, most kids are making the bulk of their own decisions, so why not let them make 50% of their own decisions by the time they’re nine years old. Then when they’re 14 or 15, let 75% of their decisions be their own. You want to let them succeed and fail while you as the parent are there to help them work through it.”

When I first heard this idea, it seemed ludicrous! Who lets their nine year old make 50% of their own decisions? Yet as I’ve given it more thought, I can see the wisdom in it.

The more your daughter is empowered to think for herself--which includes learning the hard way, making mistakes, falling down and failing, but then getting back up while having parental support---the more empowered she will be to carry herself in a similar way outside your home.   

And what dad doesn’t want his little girl to be strong and assertive, to be one who doesn’t follow the crowd but stands on her own two feet while thinking for herself?

Yet as good as all of that sounds in theory, remember that if you want your daughter to embody those qualities outside your home, she’s going to have to learn how to use those skills inside your home. In other words, your home is her training ground. 

And you, Dad, can support her process of transition into adulthood long before the day of her actual launch while strategically enhancing her level of success just by the way you interact with her every day until then.

And I am still keeping my promise for this not a political post, yet feel compelled to highlight something else that sadly has been the hallmark of this election season. Hasn’t this been the most intense and hostile political atmosphere that you’ve ever witnessed? 

This brings to mind a powerful challenge that a friend of mine, Brooke Perry, created as a grid to lead high school students that she pastors: 

1. Ask questions.

2. Listen well.

3. Disagree freely.

4. Love regardless.

Wouldn’t these four directives have been a game-changer during this election season? 

That said, I wonder how you as a dad might be able to take this grid and apply it to your relationship with your daughter as she matures and prepares to leave your home. Maybe this could even serve as a guide if she’s making choices that don’t have your highest approval rating. 

I know you want your daughter to succeed. You want to save her from heartache and regret. That’s why you sometimes want to step in and take over. I understand that. But that’s when it may be time to take to heart the words of Robert F. Kennedy, “Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever achieve greatly.” It seems to be part of the process for us all, doesn’t it?

So, what can you do to create a peaceful transfer of power with your daughter?

1. Be the safe place where she can land when she falls.

2. Make sure not to shame her in her process of learning.

3. Reflect back on your bumpy road to maturity.

4. When you think you can’t be any more patient, dig even deeper.

5. Pray for God to give you grace to stay calm while guiding her.

6. Remove harshness and anger from your communication style [a.k.a. soften your tone].

7. Know that she won’t always do things your way and that’s okay.

8. Remember that she’ll be more open to your opinion if she asks for it.

9. Listen twice as much as you talk.

10. Daily communicate love for who she is regardless of what she does or doesn’t do.

11. Always wrap your criticism or correction in positive affirmation on the front and back end of the conversation.

12. Remind her regularly that her uniqueness will leave a mark on the world as she steps out and uses her gifts to impact others for good.

Dad, I know that your heart will ache as your daughter leaves the nest, but as you prepare her for the future, rest assured that the transfer of power from you to her will be stronger, healthier, and more peaceful if she has your support. She wants you to be proud of her, to trust her, and to give her grace, especially if she doesn’t always get it right on the first try.

Let your daughter know today that you are cheering her on as she steps forward into the next season of her life!

At The End of Your Life...

I’m at the age where increasing numbers of friends are saying their forever goodbyes to loved ones. I can honestly say that more often than not I struggle to know how to best come alongside them in their grief. I still remember when one of my long-time friends lost her dad to cancer. Her heart deeply ached as she watched her once-strong father suffer, making his passing particularly bittersweet.

Then only three weeks later, I attended a memorial service for a well-loved, 42-year old friend of mine, a mom with three sons, whose unexpected death left a large community in shock as we all tried to wrap our minds and hearts around the fact that she was really gone.

[Her husband, Thom, has recently written an incredible memoir titled, “Good Grief: One Husband's Journey from Incapacitating Fear to Overwhelming Joy” and it’s available now. I endorsed it and highly recommend it as a resource for walking through loss.]

There’s nothing like the end of someone’s life to challenge everyone to do some serious soul searching about what really matters.

Do you ever wonder what your kids will say about you after you’re gone?

I think this is a good question to ponder. The truth is that the way you answer this question will significantly impact the way you live today…and tomorrow…and the day after that.

You know this already, but it bears repeating: We all leave a legacy. One way or another, we leave an imprint that lasts beyond our days on earth. 

Thus, I invite you to ask yourself another question, one that I often pose to dads of daughters because it leads them to be brutally honest:

At the end of my life, if my daughter had only ONE THING
to say about me, I’d want it to be...

I am always blown away at the incredible warmth and depth that arises from the hearts of fathers who share with me that they want their daughters to truly know how much they are loved by them. 

Here’s a few specific responses I’ve heard from dads in response to this question:

• That I was always there.

• That I loved her just the way she is.

• That I understand her.

• That my dad was the source of the courage and confidence I needed to take chances.

• That my dad was there when I needed him.

• That he was the best dad I could have asked for.

• That each one of my girls will say, 'I was his favorite.’

How about you? How are you completing this sentence right now? 

With pen (or phone) in hand, jot down your response and keep it written somewhere that you can see it---whether on a notecard, in your day-timer, or on your smartphone---and live today with the end in view. 

Dad, your legacy will live on into the future in direct proportion to your heart investment in your daughter’s life in the present.

P.S. If you could use more support in knowing how to open up challenging conversations with your daughter about grief and loss, I encourage you to get my new book, Let’s Talk: Conversation Starters for Dads and Daughters where there is an entire section titled, Lead Her to Lament. All the scripts you’ll need to engage your daughter in deeper dialogues are there to build your competence and confidence. 

What Makes a Grown Man Cry

I wish you could sit where I sit and see what I see when I’m among a group of dads of daughters. There is tender, fierce strength that I witness time and again as I interact with fathers whose hearts are turned and activated.

You see, when it comes to fathers of daughters, there is a sacred space inside every dad’s heart that is uniquely impacted by his relationship with his girl.

I never take it for granted that I have the privilege of being invited into the inner circle of men in The Abba Project or when I travel the country speaking at men’s conferences. I love hearing your stories. I am grateful to be trusted with your fears. At other times I witness your tears (even if you say they’re “just allergies!”).  
I don’t assume that men typically think of their tear ducts as being tied to their greatest inner strength. But I believe they are.

Here’s the truth about tears:

• They come from the most alive place inside each of us

• They are connected to the deepest spaces in our heart

• They let us know that we care in substantial, significant ways

• They move us emotionally, spiritually, and relationally

• They awaken us to greater awareness

• They reveal that we’re linked to people and causes that profoundly matter

In an article titled, “Why Do We Cry? The Science of Tears,” Dr. Nick Knight describes three kinds of tears that are naturally created by our bodies:

1. Basal tears or “worker” tears that keep our eyes lubricated,

2. Reflex tears that help us wash out irritants, and

3. Psychic tears or ‘crying’ tears that correspond to strong emotions, ranging from pleasure on

   the positive end to stress, anger, sadness, suffering, and even physical pain on the negative

   end.

If I may be so bold, I would like to add my own fourth category.

4. Authentic or ‘heart’ tears that are expressed in direct proportion to the quality of a connected

relationship that evokes this emotional response.

Stated otherwise, heart tears communicate the reality of what we carry most deeply within us, whether conscious or unconscious, in direct correlation to those we love and that which we love.

I guess you could say that tears are a gift because they reveal the truth of what is really going on inside of us.

What makes a grown man cry?

From years of observation, specifically in relation to dads of daughters, I’d say it’s when:

• Something or someone profoundly touches his heart

• His heart is broken over her life choices, past and present

• His heart aches over regrets in his parenting, past and present

• He longs for a better and closer relationship with his daughter, even if his tears stay inside himself

• He feels emotionally connected to her, especially when he tells her what he’s feeling or thinking about her

Summing up, a good man cries when his heart tells the story through his eyes.

You have to believe me when I say that most of us as daughters feel our father’s love when you are moved to tears when talking about how proud you are of us, when you tell us how much you love us, and when you express your affirmation of the gifts you see in us.

When you “wear your emotions on your sleeve,” it can make your words significantly more believable and impactful (even if might feel uncomfortable while it’s happening).

And even if you’re not one given to tears, just remember that some people (like me) believe that it takes bravery for any of us to cry. Why? Because it takes courage to be seen as vulnerable and tender, and typically we won’t risk displaying raw emotion unless we feel safe and really feel something in the depths of our heart.

So Dad, why not give yourself permission today to let your daughter know how you really feel about her when she looks in your eyes and sees your eyes leak a little while you communicate love in ways deeper than your words.

Be the Reason She Turns Toward God as a Father, Not the Reason She Doesn't

Awhile back I read an article from ABC News citing a study by Froese and Bader summarizing the four ways that Americans view God. I was astounded to discover that only 22% characterized the Almighty in a positive way, seeing him as benevolent, while the other 78% claimed to see Him through a critical, distant, or authoritative lens.

When I first read this, my immediate thought was: I wonder if 78% of Americans have a critical, distant, or authoritative father who has shaped the way they responded to this query.

I’ve been talking to male and female audiences for the past few years about the correlation between the way we relate to our earthly father and our subsequent response to God as a Father. Almost always tears are shed by some in the audience as tangible pain begins to surface once the connection is made between the two.

After one such presentation in Colorado I met 31-year old Elaina. She’s given me permission to share her story, written in an email once we both arrived home:

I wanted to tell you that it was kind of hard for me to connect with what you're doing with dads because my bio dad is almost totally absent and my stepdad is, well, my stepdad...so it seems almost impossible that I could ever use the skills you're teaching.

HOWEVER, I found it really helpful when you had us free associate words for father. I came up with absent, jerk and lonely-which really helped me when I was talking to my counselor yesterday, trying to describe my experience of my dads!

Anyway, I'm so grateful that you're doing this work with dads. If there had been someone like you around or a workbook detailing what you do, it might not have had to be this way between me and either of my dads. Maybe then I would have a better image of God and would not hop from father figure to father figure, trying to find someone to affirm me and feed my father hunger.

I have discovered that the horizontal and vertical are synonymously related. I believe our relationship with our dad always influences our view of God.

I agree with my friend Dr. Meg Meeker, author of Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters, who encourages dads in this way:

Your daughter needs God. And she wants you to be the one to show her who He is, what He is like, and what He thinks about her. She wants to believe that there is more to life than what she sees with her eyes and hears with her ears. She wants to know that there exists someone who is smarter, more capable, and more loving than (even) you. If you are a normal, healthy father, you should be glad that she wants to believe in someone larger, because you know all too well that many times you will fail her…

You are just a normal, good-enough dad doing the best you can. You need to have someone behind you, someone your daughter can turn to when you’re not there. You both need a bigger, better father on your side.

You need to tell your daughter what you think and believe. What you believe will have a strong impact on what she believes. And if you feel you need to start your faith journey right alongside her, do it. She’ll love it.

I know this has been a lot to take in. Let me wrap things up by saying that I understand the heavy weight on your shoulders as you consider that YOU---finite, human, imperfect----are modeling GOD AS A FATHER to your daughter. That really is a huge responsibility.

Yet this isn’t about you needing to be perfect as God is perfect.

It’s about you, as a fellow traveler in this life with your daughter, seizing the opportunity to be honest with yourself and sometimes with her about your questions and fears when it comes to God and spiritual things.

Seek out real answers to your real questions…with her.

Invite her into the sacred space of being a learner who feeds your spiritual life.

My hope is that this will translate to your daughter turning towards God because of you. That it what it means to leave a lasting legacy.

p.s. If you’d like to open up a conversation with your daughter on spiritual things, here’s a questionnaire to guide you: Dad-Daughter Questions on Spiritual Things

Dad, Here's Why You Want Your Daughter to Fight With You

Most dads tell me they want their daughters to grow up to be confident, empowered, emotionally healthy women who are strong in their morals, convictions, and beliefs. Having said that, I want to ask you: What happens when your daughter pushes the boundaries at every turn and challenges the values you are trying to instill, despite your best efforts?

While you’re pondering your answer, let me introduce you to 24-year old Danielle.

Danielle is the youngest of four children and is one of those girls who has always loved to push the boundaries. At home. At school. In relationships. Simultaneously, she is a self-proclaimed “Daddy’s Girl” who says that the worst thing imaginable would be to disappoint her dad.

Honestly, Danielle has contributed to the bountiful population of grey hair on the heads of both her mom and dad. And all three of them would tell you that the highs and lows of their lives have been way more extreme than any of them would ever have chosen or thought possible.

Yet somewhere in the midst of six to seven very challenging years, Danielle has emerged into a young woman who has now found her voice. She has gone from being a self-described “victim” to an assertive, bold, straight-forward, confident, gutsy young woman. 

She would tell you that none of this would have been possible without her parents support. More specifically, she would tell you that none of this would have been possible had her dad pulled away and stopped loving her through the process.

In her own words Danielle says, “Truthfully, I think that had my dad pulled away and stopped loving me through the hell I put him and my mom through, I would have lost myself even more than I did. And to even think about that being a possibility back then, is a scary thought.”

So here you are as a dad who wants to launch your daughter into adulthood in the best way possible. But if you’re like a lot of dads I’ve talked to, sometimes you don’t know how to make that happen. 

Dad, if you truly want to assist your daughter in her voice-finding venture, here’s something to keep in the forefront of your mind:

Here are four questions to ask yourself: Do you put pressure on your daughter to…

• obey without question?

• compliantly follow your rules?

• stop most (or all) intense emotion?

• not use her voice to assert herself, especially if it’s in opposition to your values?

I realize that it’s hard work to listen when you have no margin after a long day. 

I understand that it’s hard work to stay calm when she’s wordy or mouthy. 

I acknowledge the fact that it’s hard work to track with her when her emotional intensity is as unpredictable as the weather and seems to come at the most inopportune times.

Just keep reminding yourself that if you want her to be strong and bold then you have to set the foundation for her to be a critical thinker by going through these ups and downs with her.

• Be her sounding board as she talks things out with you.

• Be patient with her in the process of figuring out what she thinks, believes, wants, needs, and dreams about, especially when it deviates from your hopes and ideals.

• Be a role model of patient steadiness, remembering that she will change her mind probably a dozen more times in the next few years regarding what she thinks, believes, wants, needs, and dreams about.

She’ll come through it one way or another. And with your loving acceptance she’ll figure it out, even if she’s off course here and there on that journey (according to your values or timetable, that is).

Like Danielle (pictured with her parents above) says, “If there is one piece of advice I could give other dads struggling with their relationship with their daughter, it would be to NEVER give up on her and NEVER make her feel anything less than a beautiful deserving young woman that can accomplish anything she wants to in life. Maybe she will shut you out at first, but that doesn’t mean you should give up on her. She needs someone to fight for her and show her she is worth so much more.”

As your daughter matures, she will be all over the map in knowing how to properly use her voice. But like anything in life, the only way to gain expertise is with practice. 

Let her practice using her voice with you, dad. That’s one of the longest-lasting and best gifts you can ever give her.

It’s Never too Late to Make Amends: A Real Life Dad-Adult Daughter Story

There wasn’t a dry eye in the room. 

As they sat side by side on the platform in front of a packed auditorium, their raw emotion was palatable, expressed visibly as each of them told their story through their tears. We all sat there mesmerized, with an awareness that we were being invited into one of the most honest interactions we’d ever witnessed between a dad and his adult daughter. She went first.

“Affirmation. My dad never gave it and still never does. I think that is why I’m never sure I matter. He is available in a variety of ways---there if I want to talk, for example, but not affirming. I can’t even explain the hole I’ve felt in my heart at his lack of affirmation. For many years I didn’t even realize that hole was there. And once I did, I first ignored it and told myself I didn’t care. But eventually it hurt too much to ignore.”

It was my dear friend Constance on the stage that day, her voice cracking as she spoke those words in front of a live audience. In that moment she wasn’t thinking about the fact that she was the CEO of a long-running non-profit organization, an accomplished musician, a vibrant national speaker, an author of two books, or a wife and a mother to three amazing children, notwithstanding the fact that she had coordinated the conference we were all attending. 

Right then it was as if she was a ten-year old girl again, acutely in touch with the longings of her heart. She wished for her daddy to notice her, to tell her she was beautiful in his eyes, and to let her know that he had time for her because she was one of the most important priorities in his life.

With her dad’s, permission to share these details publicly, she then began reading an email dialogue between she and I that had taken place a couple years earlier with regard to hurts from her father, Dan. Here is some of what I had written to encourage her: 

“Constance, it saddens me to think of how amazing you and your sister are and it breaks my heart to hear that your dad elevates ministry ventures over connecting with the two of you. It shows that he doesn’t have a cup that is full enough to pour into your life. I imagine that he gives you the best that he has and it’s definitely not enough. When he does ministry he must not have to give of himself in the same way he has to as a dad. It must tap into a different place inside of him.”

Looking directly at her father there on the platform, Constance turned and asked him: “Dad, how did it make you feel to hear those emails read?”

With script in hand, Dan read his carefully prepared response to his daughter’s query (she had given him the questions ahead of time so he had ample time to think through his answers): 

“I was saddened to realize how much you craved my approval and affirmation and I was oblivious to your need. I was so focused on avoiding the loss of my business of 25 years and losing my home as a result of the ‘Great Recession,’ combined with the concerns of pastoring a new church that I didn’t recognize your need.” 

Then, in her beautifully authentic way, Constance led her dad to dig deeper and share why he agreed to join her there that day to tell their story: 

“Because I love you and you asked me to come. You have asked me before to attend your events and I’ve always had a reason not to attend. But because I now realize how important it is to you, I am making you a priority and accepted your invitation. I recognize mistakes I’ve made in the past and am thankful for the opportunity to make better decisions. You are important to me and I want to affirm you.” 

Dan could hardly get through that part without fighting back tears. As you can imagine, his daughter was right there with him, feeling every word of his heartfelt emotion. He continued:

“I hope that our strengthened relationship will give hope to those in attendance who may be dealing with similar issues with their parents. I also want to bring this to the attention of parents with adult or soon-to-be-adult children so they’ll know that down deep at some level your children still need your approval, your acceptance, your affirmation, and your love. It may not seem like it, but they do.”

Then the two of them, as if in a well-choreographed dance, began to tell the backstory of their family history, beginning with Dan marrying Constance’s mom when she was 15 and he was 17, to their divorce 14 years later. They added many more heartbreaking details, including Dan eventually remarrying and starting a new family that didn’t always include his three older children, part of which led Constance to explode at her dad years earlier in a restaurant because of his dismissive responses towards her, an accumulation of hurt that had built up over the years.

By this time we, the audience, were all on the edge of our seats, feeling their pain and distress right along with them. I don’t think there was a dry eye in the place. Dan kept going:

“In my mind I thought I was affirming my daughter with my occasional compliments, so with regret I now realize it was not enough to satisfy her need. I was aware that Constance was not happy with me and I honestly didn’t know why. I didn’t realize the depth of her hurt and bitterness. And I will admit that I was raised without much affirmation from my parents and succumbed to the same malady. 

But I can now be painfully honest; I needed to learn to respect my adult children and not just give them unwanted criticism. There is a time parents have to begin to deal with their children on a respect basis; like many, I was late in recognizing this. But I have now!”

It was so refreshing to hear a dad---and a pastor, no less---honestly admitting his failures as a father to his adult daughter out in the open, in front of strangers. There wasn’t defensiveness or mudslinging in an attempt to explain, justify, or qualify his actions. Instead, his honesty and tender willingness to understand how he had hurt his daughter was part of the process that allowed her to continue releasing the hurts that she had carried for so many years. 

Now it was Constance’s turn to respond:

“Even though I was really angry at my dad, for some reason there was also a part of me that wanted to hope for something more. I think it was God in me. He gave me eyes to see my dad in a new light. Through conversations I saw more of the pain and rejection he had carried as a little boy, and also as a father and husband. I also realized that he was actually genuinely ignorant of my need for his affirmation. The more I looked at him through eyes of compassion for his brokenness, the easier it was to believe things could be better.

But the biggest boost to our relationship was that he wanted to change. He was in a season of having retired from work and was looking at his life in new ways and asking God to change him. And that is what I have seen the most these past few years---my dad is ACTIVELY choosing to look at the parts of himself that are not loving, and is open to change.”

Can you hear the softness in her voice that was evident now in the telling of her story? And she didn’t stop there:

“Two years ago I felt God nudging me to pray a prayer of blessing over my dad. Even though I was still holding on to some of the old feelings of bitterness, I started to cry. Something huge shifted in me in that moment. And I noticed a big shift in our relationship ever since. It was like something was loosed when I chose to pray blessing instead of holding on to old bitterness, and I think it meant something in him to hear me do that too. Since that time, I have noticed that my dad frequently tells me that he loves me, and more importantly (at least for me), that he is proud of me.

This has changed not only our relationship, but my relationship with myself. Somehow, knowing that my dad is proud of me has diminished my need to have others be proud of me too. And the more I know that and can rest in his love for me, the better and better our relationship gets.”

What hope their story brings in highlighting that it’s never too late for a dad and a daughter to mend their relationship. Here is a woman disclosing that it took her until her late 30’s to begin peeling back the layers of her father wounds and voids.

But the other amazing reality is that she has a dad who was willing to meet her in that process by also looking at himself and owning his part of the whole.

The lessons I take from their story are numerous. Among them:

• It’s never too late to heal a broken relationship between a dad and his daughter.

• In order to move forward, a dad needs to hear the impact of his actions (or inaction) on his daughter’s heart and life…without defensiveness.

• It takes tremendous courage for a dad to ask God to change him, but if he does, it will yield positive results with children.

• When a dad opens up about his life (particularly his childhood), it gives his daughter more insight into why he is the way he is.

• A daughter can ask God to help her look at her dad through the eyes of compassion for his own brokenness as she begins to take steps to forgive him.

• When a daughter prays for God to bless her father, it helps to release her bitterness.

I want to close by giving Dan the last word---from one dad to another. I hope that his words will touch your heart as a dad so that like him, you will be willing to look within yourself in order to pursue a more vibrant and positive relationship with your daughter:

“Looking back, I can remember the clues she was sending, but at the time I was clueless. It is never too late, and yes, I am committed to continuously changing to conform to God’s will for me as a father. The great thing about God is He wants to restore broken relationships and if we will cooperate with Him, He will change us if we will pray for those we have hurt or been hurt by. Then God will begin a work of restoration in them because with God, all things are possible.”

Well said, Dan. And on behalf of daughters everywhere, I want to give you my most sincere thanks for your humble willingness to honestly admit your shortcomings as a father, coupled with publicly modeling what it looks like for a dad to actively turn his heart toward his grown-up girl. 

Your story gives us all great hope that we ever too old to change…whether a dad or an adult daughter.

20/20 Hindsight: One Dad's Honest Reflections Looking Back (Guest Blog)

Due to the vulnerable nature of this guest blog, I’m choosing
to keep the identity of my courageous friend anonymous.
It is with gratitude that I am sharing his honest reflections as a
father whose daughter paid the price for some unwise decisions
he made a few years ago. He described the process of writing
this as “actually therapeutic even though I had to pause a few
times as tears started to take over me,” which makes the gift of
his disclosure all the more valuable. I trust his honesty will lead
you to do the same. ~ Michelle 

Perspective is a funny thing. We often seem to have a more unique and revealing perspective the older we get and after mistakes you wish you could take back.  This is an account of my personal perspective that I wish I would have realized before the heartache myself and my family experienced.

As I was in my bonus room one day getting in a workout recently, I happened to look on our wall where my kid’s K-12 composite school pictures are displayed. I always enjoy looking at them and wish I could turn the clock back to the days of recent tooth fairy visits and self-inflicted haircuts.  

But today was different. 

As I looked at my daughter’s sweet middle-school face, I started to break down. Tears poured down my face as I was reminded of how selfish I was during those impressionable years of hers.  I recall the self-absorbed focus I had on having an affair and telling myself that being happy was what I deserved. I had no clue how my selfishness was going to send me on a journey I’d never wish on any parent---more on that in a moment.  

Once my unfaithful actions were discovered, the decision was made to move out and find an apartment. I continued to justify my selfishness by trying to spin happiness to my kids as they helped me move and decorate my cool (he says sarcastically) one-bedroom residence. Little did I know the damage I was unintentionally doing to my sweet 11-year-old whose world was being shattered in front of my blind eyes. 

As the next couple of years went on, the distance between myself and my daughter (and son) was evident. They saw the broken woman I was responsible for creating in their mom, which led to the indifference they showed me as I continued to live the double life of expressing my wish to reconcile while having my empty words be reflected in my actions.  

As my wife and I tried to put together the pieces of our relationship, it became evident that our daughter was making horrible choices to mask her pain, which included distancing herself from me (not to mention always making sure that everyone knew that her once-labeled hero--me--was a complete asshole) while continuing to head down a path of complete destruction. It was at that point we knew we had to do something---and fast! We made a seemingly unfathomable decision to send her to a boarding school in the middle of nowhere Montana in hopes we could save her from walking out our door and never seeing her again. 

The day the transport service drove out of my driveway with our daughter in the backseat was the day I experienced the most pain my heart has ever felt.
Unable to talk and barely breathe as I laid lifeless on her bedroom floor, I was overtaken by a heart-wrenching sob that was uncontrollable. I could only wonder how our lives ended up in this place.

Fast forward to today---after years of incredibly hard work by both my wife and I, along with our daughter, I’m beyond thrilled to say we came out on the other end stronger than ever as a family.

Looking back now, I’ll admit that although this was painful process, it was a good drill for me to listen to my daughter without rebuttal as I let her know her feelings were valid. I had to learn to be completely vulnerable without giving her reasons for why it happened and let her tell me what all of this did to her without being defensive. What I discovered is that as I began to let my guard down, I became less concerned about protecting myself and more concerned that she received everything I could possibly give her in her healing process. I committed to be completely at her disposal as she gave it to me from her most raw, open, and critical place. 

As I tie this experience all together, I think back to the day I referred to earlier where I was looking at the school pictures on my bonus room wall. Something came over me as I looked at my daughter’s sweet face where I just started weeping and thinking about what our family experienced.

That’s when I picked up my cell phone and called her. I could barely speak, and she could sense it. She asked what was wrong and I told her I just wanted to call and apologize for the heartache I caused those years ago. In her soft graciousness she said, “Dad, you’ve apologized enough, and I’ve already forgiven you. I love you and our relationship is amazing!” 

I can honestly say there was a day when I thought I’d never hear those words from her again.  

Perspective is a funny thing, indeed. 

If I had the opportunity (and knowledge) to stop my old self from making the mistakes I did, of course, I would---as would most of us. But since I can’t, I can only strive to be my best self, to love those close to me, and continue to trust God with the darkest of situations.

A Note to a Dad from the Darkness (Guest Blog by Don Blackwell)

My friend, Don Blackwell, shares a similar passion to mine in that he loves inspiring dads to intentionally engage with their daughters. Today I am honored to have him share this guest blog, a letter he’s written from the vantage point of a young woman who wants her dad to hear the deep longings of her heart.   
 
To set the stage for what you’re about to read, I want you to hear—in Don’s own words—
his motivation as a dad who seeks to champions other fathers with daughters. 
~Michelle

From Don:
“Michelle, thanks for sharing my post with your audience. I hope it will encourage dads to explore letter writing as a means of reaching their daughters’ hearts. I’m a BIG believer in letters, cards, and notes left in backpacks, on breakfast plates, under pillows, etc.  As important as heart-to-heart conversations are, spoken words too often dissipate in the air and lack staying power. Written words – of affirmation, apology, encouragement, etc. – are permanent. Daughters can keep them (most do) and keep referring back to them when they need them most.
 
I’ve had the privilege of listening to the hurting hearts of countless women – young and not-so-young – over the past decade. Many have been ravaged by eating disorders. All share one thing in common: Their desire to know that they are loved by their dad – unconditionally – and that he is proud of them. This letter was the result of a late night text message exchange with a incredible young woman who wasn’t sure of either.”
 
Dear Dad,

I’m not sure how I got to this very dark place.
And I’m even less sure how to navigate my way out of it.
I’m also not sure why I feel so worthless, like such a burden and so alone.

And I’m even less sure how to go about ridding myself of these feelings.
What I AM sure of, however, is how much I need you tonight.

I need a strong shoulder to cry on.

I need a voice I can trust to tell me everything’s going to be alright.

I need reassurance that the sun will come up tomorrow.

I need to be reminded that I’m good enough – “AS IS”.

I need a heart so filled with love that it has no space to be ashamed of me.

I need to know that, despite all that’s happened, I’m not a disappointment.

I need someone to check “under my grown up bed” and in the closet – the way you once did when I was a child and tell me it’s safe for me to go sleep.

I need to know I’m someone’s pride and joy – your pride and joy.

I need someone who will listen without judging me.

I need to know that I’m loved and that I matter.

I need you to show me the truth about me – again and again and again – until I can see it myself.

I need YOU, Dad.

I need you to hold hope for me.

I need you to light the way, to take my hand and walk with me out of this darkness.

I need to know I’m not alone in this fight.

~Your 22-Year-Old “Little Girl”

Don Blackwell is the dad of two adult children, Ashley and Greg, and a trial attorney at Bowman and Brooke, LLP in Dallas, Texas.
He also is the author of “Dear Ashley . . .” – A Father’s Reflections and Letters to His Daughter on Life, Love, and Hope and an avid blogger.
Don can be found on Twitter and Instagram @donblackwell4.