Give me some examples of loving fathers

June 11, 2024 12:21 PM

I'm pretty sure my father was emotionally neglectful but I can't really articulate how. I'm in treatment for CPTSD related to this and can sort of reverse engineer that things must not have been great given how much of an effect on me it had, but it's hard to understand what I didn't get so I'm struggling both to grieve and to do reparenting work.

We actually spent a ton of time together when i was younger, and I have lots of memories of having fun with him -- playing sports, board games, watching films together. He always made me feel special and like he enjoyed my company which feels pretty different to what people usually describe when talking about emotional neglect.

But it always felt like something was wrong, or missing. All the stuff we did together was stuff he enjoyed doing. I can't think of any examples of him doing anything difficult or uncomfortable, and it feels like most loving dads would be willing to do that?

stuff like:
- being emotionally vulnerable (he couldn't say I love you or initiate any kind of physical affection)
- asking me if i was struggling with anything or talking about anything difficult
- as I grew older, asking me about topics that bored him but I was interested in
- looking after the family (he was mostly unemployed, did fewer chores than mum who was employed, didn't look after people when they were sick, etc)
- having any sort of open communication with mum (I ended up helping out as her sounding board, including helping her realise she wanted to divorce)

It feels like he was my best friend but didn't do any actual raising me, you know? And like he never cared about anyone else enough to be willing to be inconvenienced by them.

Is it reasonable to expect that a dad would want to do at least some of the stuff above? Every time I try to grieve I get stuck on thoughts that everyone's dad is like mine and it's stupid of me to have hoped for anything more, or he could have been much worse, or of course he loved me and I'm just missing the ways he was showing it.

I'm looking for examples of things a father figure in your life did that made you feel loved and cared for, even really mundane stuff. I'm not looking to judge if he was a 'bad' father or anything like that, just trying to get a more sane baseline for what loving fatherhood is like. Hoping I can get straight in my mind what kid me likely needed and didn't get so I can work on getting those needs met some other way.

posted by pandabanter to Human Relations (25 answers total)

My late stepdad was the best. He was a kind, goodhearted man who adored the hell out of my mom and never made me and my sister feel like we weren't his kids.

He helped us with our homework, taught us to drive and basic car maintenance, helped us move in and out of various apartments throughout the years, listened to us even during our crappy teen years. He loved Rod Stewart and on Saturday nights, would play those oldies shows on the radio and dance with my mom in the kitchen. He could never remember the name of the movie Footloose so just called it Superdance.

I miss him.
posted by Kitteh at 12:36 PM on June 11

I think you've actually done a great job of articulating what he did well, and what he did not do well. Or at all. I do think the concept of "most loving dads" may be tripping you up here. Speaking in very broad strokes generational terms, all (American? Western?) men were, and to a large extent still are very actively discouraged from doing this kind of actual emotional work. Most dads weren't loving - at least by a contemporary, "up to date" standard of what 'loving father' entails. Your own feelings are very close to how I feel about my own father.

He was not emotionally available. He did not emotionally support you. He did not emotionally support your mother. This is not great! It's also not rare or atypical as a failure mode for his generation, but that does not change the fact of his failure. He probably did love you more than he knew how to show - I don't know your dad, but this was common for men of his generation. This does not change the fact of his failure to make his love real to you.

Many, many of us had dads like yours. That does not mean you did not deserve more and do not deserve more today. But my very short answer is "nah, you nailed it, that's stuff you had a right to expect."
posted by Tomorrowful at 12:38 PM on June 11

One of the things you mentioned that he didn't do - "looking after the family (he was mostly unemployed, did fewer chores than mum who was employed" - is pretty huge. If he is not the primary caregiver (ie, a stay-at-home-dad) supporting a family financially is a critical task for a loving father, and it sounds like he left this to your mother, which is a great burden to handle alone, especially when you are doing most of the choires. He was basically another child to your mother, and maybe like a sibling to you? Not supporting a family financially or in other ways (chores, etc.) is extremely neglectful, although not always obvious to children growing up until they see the bigger picture of how unfair this is to the other parent. Usually men don't work due to other problems, so you may want to explore that possibility (mental illness, addiction).
posted by j810c at 1:06 PM on June 11

My dad would say he loved us and initiate physical affection with my mother and all of us kids. He had some kind of job (he had a lot of job turnover and different kinds of jobs, but always something) and did the masculinized chores around the house, as well as competently sharing in some of the feminized ones from time to time (cooking, baking, grocery shopping). He's never been extraordinarily emotionally competent but he did show investment in our family in ways I could recognize, including being present for hard emotional conversations, even if my mother was really the one managing them.

I am very certain my dad loves me because I'm his child but I don't always feel confident he loves me as my own person, because of that emotional competence gap Tomorrowful described. And that's, you know, emotionally complicated. It's valid to be sad your needs weren't met, even if you recognize it's common for men of your dad's generation not to have the skills to meet those needs.
posted by EvaDestruction at 1:13 PM on June 11

My dad was not good at outwardly expressing his love for me (or my bros). What he did do was toss me a $20 on a Friday and Saturday night and tell me to have some fun. He learned (erroneously) from his father that money was love. At the time, it worked for me. I knew he loved me and cared. Everyone has their own way of expressing love. Sometimes their way does not jibe with your way.
posted by JohnnyGunn at 1:16 PM on June 11

I know that my Dad loved us (three kids, I'm the oldest) very much, but he was never demonstrative. That is, he was never huggy/kissy until I was older, and then I was the one who initiated it...and when I did, he return-embraced me with a bear hug. His idea of parenting was making sure everything in the house worked (he installed our central air conditioning back in 1964 over a matter of weeks after he'd worked in a factory all day, because Mom was ill and the heat/humidity was making her extra-miserable). He fixed our bicycles when needed, and later our cars. He never bought presents for occasions, per se....that is, he didn't remember when any of our birthdays were and his attitude was "If it's something they'd like, why wait for a specific date?" Thus when he was reading Popular Science back in 1980 and saw an ad for what was the brand-new Sony Walkman he showed it to Mom and said "Oriole would like this, why don't you call Bob N (our neighbor ho owned a Sony store in Hamtramck) and get one." No special occasion, no gift wrapping, but he'd thought of me and knew how much I love my music and would love to make it portable.

Another anecdote (which shows my age)....when I was a kid during Summer vacation one my favorite things to do was roller skate around the neighborhood. This was in the days when that meant strapping metal skates to your shoes and wearing a skate key around your neck in case you needed to adjust them. Well this one Summer the city had installed/paved brand new sidewalks on the next block. Of course that was the primo surface for some smooth skating, but one cranky resident regularly burstt out of his front door and yelled at me for skating on "his" new pavement - I was "scratching" it. I eventually told Dad about this and to my surprise (I honestly didn't know that Dad knew how to roller skate!) he took my skates, used my skate key to adjust them to his foot size and mumbled "Let's just see if he tells me not to skate on his precious sidewalk..." So, anyway, my Dad was often emotionally distant but he loved and supported us the best way he knew now.
posted by Oriole Adams at 1:24 PM on June 11

My dad did the dishes, grocery shopping, cooking (every day breakfast but also occasional dinner), and took us to many of our dr visits (60miles each way to a bigger city) and went to more of our school events than my mom, probably to make up for a construction job that required 50 hour weeks. Mom was a teacher - hated going back to school after she got out each day.

He also did all the tough conversations.

He had downsides of course: due to his job, he rarely went on vacation with us, and didn't like 'active' vacations - fishing was about as much as we could expect. We had to make our own fun without him if it was on vacation and 'active', like boating or water parks or whatnot. He also hated shopping for stuff like clothes, so that was mom alone.

Got no complaints in general about his parenting. Mom either - actually I always thought my mom was a bit too clingy at times, but it would be normal 'helicopter' parenting today.
posted by The_Vegetables at 1:25 PM on June 11

Also if you want an example you can see, the dad in the American Pie movies is a silly but decent example who supports his son's weirdness and awkwardness.
posted by The_Vegetables at 1:28 PM on June 11

It might be helpful to know when your dad was born and when you were born. The kinds of things you are talking about missing -- conversations about feelings, expressions of love -- are things some men weren't ever taught to do, and certainly weren't modeled for them. In fact, they may have been specifically discouraged from any expression or discussion of emotion as children. I guess what I am trying to say is that your father might have been raised to think that spending time with your kid and playing sports with them was, in fact, what a loving father did (in addition to supporting their family financially, which is sounds like he wasn't able to do often, and might have been a challenge emotionally for him).

Are you familiar with the concept of toxic masculinity, and discussions of how patriarchy can hurt men too? A book like The Will To Change by bell hooks might have some insight for you on what masculinity has looked like and how it can be different.

A framing some folks find helpful is along the lines of what Tomorrowful said: it may be that your dad did the best that he did with the tools he had, but that the best he did wasn't exactly what you needed. Both of these things can be true.

I will add that my dad, born in 1938, liked playing games and being active with us too. He's funny and likes telling stories. He learned how to talk more about emotions during his divorce, I think. He's better at listening to others' emotions. I just realized that I honestly don't know if I've ever heard him express any of his own emotions (mind blown), even as he's great at being supportive and giving advice for life and work situations.
posted by bluedaisy at 1:42 PM on June 11

in describing your father, I found myself wanting to know where he came from

because my father has passed and I understand him better from learning more about his childhood

he didn't learn how to express feelings growing up, so he showed his love to my sister by driving out to her in another province and helping her load her things in a U-Haul to leave her marriage. He didn't have to do that, and she didn't ask him to do that, and he had been diagnosed with cancer, and all the years of not communicating emotionally kind of seem irrelevant because he showed love the way he knew how to

good luck
posted by elkevelvet at 1:52 PM on June 11

Would it help to focus on what you need that he didn't have available to give? My Dad was a terrific guy, but also worked all the time and allowed my bi-polar alcoholic Mom to make life crazy a lot of the time. I grew up in the 50s & 60s, there weren't good resources and little to no meaningful support. I love you and hugs were not a thing. Identifying what you need has the additional bonus that maybe you can get that need met in your current life.
posted by theora55 at 2:01 PM on June 11

Also if you want an example you can see, the dad in the American Pie movies is a silly but decent example who supports his son's weirdness and awkwardness.

Mrs. HeroZero is a therapist, and apparently the dad from Bluey is a frequently-cited example of a healing father figure to watch in media.
posted by HeroZero at 2:13 PM on June 11

Even just your first point, about physical affection, probably hugely affected you on a primal level. If you think of apes, their babies literally cling to them. It must have hurt childhood you to feel like your dad didn't want to hug you, wrestle, snuggle while reading stories together...this is stuff children don't just want, but need.

My father was far from perfect, and in some ways emotionally neglectful as well. For example, he was absent for the majority of my childhood. He definitely didn't have the skills to connect emotionally, especially not with teenagers. I felt sure that he loved me, but not convinced he liked me. Maybe I shouldn't be answering this question? But: I have a deep sense of security from him rubbing circles on my back as I was falling asleep as a young child. He protected me from other adults when I needed it. I remember feeling comfortable enough to climb into bed between my parents when I had a bad dream. I was largely listened to when I was sad or scared, and never made fun of. I remember being wrapped in a big towel after a bath, and he was very interested in getting us to wear slippers and otherwise making sure we were warm enough. My sisters and I regularly wrestled with my dad (this was usually initiated by my mum, but dad was a willing participant). When he brushed our teeth, he'd make up stories to keep us still and entertained. He built us platforms in our rooms so we could use the vertical space. He taught me essential knots (he loves boats). When he went on big work trips to faraway places, he wrote letters to my class. They were read out in school and my classmates seemed legitimately interested. (My dad is a good writer, and he loves his job.) While he was often gone during the workweek, he faithfully picked up small, nifty toys or sticker packs to deliver every Friday. I remember feeling reassured by that; it seemed like evidence that he was thinking of me while he was away. I missed him a lot.

Later, when I was a teenager, my dad wrote me some beautiful letters expressing that he was proud of me. We were able to connect through my dog as well, because he also loved her very much.

He became an even better dad when my sisters and I were grown up. He's better at honest communication now (it took a nervous breakdown for that to happen).

But it always felt like something was wrong, or missing. All the stuff we did together was stuff he enjoyed doing. I can't think of any examples of him doing anything difficult or uncomfortable, and it feels like most loving dads would be willing to do that?

I think to some extent, this is pretty classic "dad" and maybe even okay. My dad played chess with me, we went scuba diving together, and we did a lot of swimming. I liked all of that, but probably wouldn't have picked it. It's normal for kids to look to their parents for what to do together and only more recently have parents become at all interested in child-led activities. But still, a lot of the "uncomfortable" stuff around child-rearing is just basic care. Comforting sick children, for example, or cleaning up messes. Not doing any of that does seem unusual. And it makes me feel angry on behalf of not just you, but also your mother.
posted by toucan at 2:19 PM on June 11

My dad was always good at being present. He would have to work late sometimes, but if he was there, he was there. Like, he was spending time with you, paying attention, not distracted with something else. I can see it now when he's hanging out with my kids, where they'll be talking his ear off about Minecraft or Star Wars or some other thing that he only vaguely understands, but he still asks questions and is totally focused.

And he's always generous with his time and ideas. If you ask him a question, he'll really think about, and come back to it if he doesn't have an idea right then.
posted by number9dream at 2:21 PM on June 11

I recommend checking out this recent thread on the main page about the interior and emotional life of boys/men. The linked article I think you can actually skip, as the Mefites who comment therein really provide the bulk of what's valuable in terms of insight and touching personal histories, especially re: these points:

Is it reasonable to expect that a dad would want to do at least some of the stuff above? Every time I try to grieve I get stuck on thoughts that everyone's dad is like mine and it's stupid of me to have hoped for anything more, or he could have been much worse, or of course he loved me and I'm just missing the ways he was showing it.

It is a long thread of nearly 300 comments, so as in all such lengthy threads there's debate and disagreement and some acrimony. But there are also many vulnerable details and personal stories shared that have much to do with exactly the questions you pose, and I personally found it very touching to take in all of them.
posted by obliterati at 2:28 PM on June 11

Somebody already beat me to Bluey: Bandit is a bit of a buffoon in the “clueless man in a tv commercial” way BUT he’s emotionally and physically available, loves his family and plays creatively with his kids when he’s not working as an archaeologist (digging up bones, get it, he’s a DOG). Bandit is great.
posted by chesty_a_arthur at 2:57 PM on June 11

A friend of mine who was undertaking some reparenting work got the advice to read a parenting book. I'm pretty sure the one she chose was Good Inside, since it has some "if you're coming from a crappy parenting situation yourself" guidance. This is a good way to calibrate what we know children need and what happens if they don't get it.

I only give cautious recommendation for Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents: How to Heal from Distant, Rejecting, or Self-Involved Parents, because - as a commenter here noted recently - it's pretty unforgiving to neurodivergent parents, but I would also argue a child who did not get what they needed as a child is exempted from cutting their parents slack for not obtaining the resources they needed to parent well. But this appears to describe both your parents - the term you want for your mother is that she 'parentified' you - and so may bring some catharsis.

I had the somewhat distant workaholic father common to my generation (though he was not, like many of my peers' fathers, a Vietnam veteran with the extraordinary damage that came with it), and his personality did not make for spectacular parenting on some vectors, but I would definitely categorize his parenting as generally supportive, appropriately attached, and overall in the family dynamics he was nurturing and respectful. He did not expect me to do wife/mother tasks for him, and did not burden me with grown-up stressors like money or life logistics. He was interested in some of my interests and we had shared interests and while he was not terribly hands-on in parenting tasks he was capable of keeping me alive for a few days in my mother's absence. He was fine.

But there were a number of things I did not get from my family as a child that I had to deal with as an adult to make me a happier and more effective adult. We all do. You don't have to prove you didn't get something you needed, the voice in your head can demand receipts all it wants but all that is necessary is the recognition that you need to correct something now. The nature of the lack matters some, because dealing with an immature father vs a deployed father vs a father who died while you were young all come with their own stuff to process, but if you didn't get the kind of parenting considered developmentally appropriate at whatever developmental stage, that alone is reason enough to work on it now.

And parental love has basically nothing to do with the child. If you father didn't love you, wasn't capable of love, wasn't there or didn't exist, none of that is because you are unloveable or unworthy. The child part of you thought that had to be the explanation because child you didn't know anything about mental health and intergenerational trauma and personality disorders and physical illness.

And I recommend you look into Internal Family Systems therapy techniques as well, so that Adult You can learn to step back and set aside the justifications to let Child You really talk about and process the experience of being little and trying to make sense of these things, and then give Adult You an opportunity to give support and reassurance to the Child. Because even if you're not a parent, you probably know enough to know that "shut up, they barely even abused you" is not an appropriate response to a hurt child even though you are trying to tell yourself that as an adult.

Alternately a parent can love you bigger than the solar system and that does not give them any of the resources necessary for the job and challenge and responsibility of parenting. Because, again, it's not the child that generates the love, it's the parent's capacity to love that determines that, and a parent can love you so much and that will not materialize food on the table or cure their psychosis, it can't put you in a school system capable of meeting your developmental needs, it couldn't invent the internet in the 60s or 70s so your parents would know about queer kids before you knew you were one.

As even well-resourced parents say: "welp, that's certainly going to give them something to talk about in therapy later." You can't avoid fucking some stuff up, and your kids will have to deal with it. This is the dealing with it part.
posted by Lyn Never at 3:05 PM on June 11

I guess I could list all the things he did, but it all boils down to the fact that I felt like my dad saw me.
posted by queensissy at 4:14 PM on June 11

The dad in the movie Contact.
posted by St. Peepsburg at 4:35 PM on June 11

I take my kids swimming at the apartment swimming pool and actually get in with them and play. I'm 47 and fat and hairy and don't particularly want to be in public in a swimming suit, but there are rarely any other parents in the pool - they all sit under umbrellas at tables using their phones.

One time when one daughter was eight years old I was swimming with her and I said "Lily - what do you like most about swimming?" Her answer was "You! You swim with us!" and I haven't stopped since.

The other kids in the pool notice this and always want to play with us, so I usually end up with a huge crowd of kids all playing games together. It's fun and I've had other parents thank me for "putting up with" their kids.

I think kids want time with their parents. They want to feel valuable and important.
posted by tacodave at 4:47 PM on June 11

One of the things I love about my partner is the way he parents.

-He is physically affectionate with his son.
-He spends time with his son playing, biking, hanging out, etc.
-He does the work of signing him up for summer activities, getting him into school.
-He models great partnership by doing his fair share of maintaining the house.
-And so much more.

I'm sorry you did not get loving parenting. Everyone deserves it and too many people don't get it.

Big hugs
posted by brookeb at 6:10 PM on June 11

The things that make me feel that my father is a good father, are all about him seeing me and trying to figure out what I really need, rather than what he thinks I should need.

He doesn't always do this he can be oblivious at times, but when it really matters, he shows me that he's listening to me.

If I say that I'm unhappy with something, he's unlikely to get defensive. He's more likely to ask for clarification, and consider my point of view.

He will occasionally say things that make it clear that he's noticed what I'm going through even if I haven't told him.

If he gives me a gift, he'll genuinely ask wether it works for me in a way that makes it clear he really wants to know, and will happily change or replace the gift.

I get frustrated with him at times, he can be extremely stubborn, and sometimes says hurtful things because he doesn't realise how he's coming across, but I know he won't double down if I say something about it.
posted by Zumbador at 11:14 PM on June 11

My experience with my father was similar to yours, and Tomorrowful really nailed the way that I think about it.

I had an additional moment of insight when my therapist asked if I felt understood as a child. Did I feel... understood? No, of course not. In fact, it never even occurred to me that that's something that can happen. I assumed that no one's parents understood them. My parents loved me and were curious about with my well-being, but they never asked me why I thought something. I existed as a little mirror that they took good care of.

It's difficult to explore the effect this might have had on me, because I still have trouble believing that it's possible to have expected something different. Queensissy's comment above saying that their dad "saw" them certainly seems to imply that some children experienced being understood by their parents, so it must... be... possible? Suspicious!
posted by Pwoink at 4:49 AM on June 12

I did NOT have a good father but reading about tacodave made me cry - THAT is what I missed. The bothering. Sounds like it might be similar for you - it was all ok if whatever was what your father wanted, but could not be bothered with anything outside that. Very easy to grow up learning (in a deeply unconscious way) that you are not worth bothering about, and you need to fit into what other people like to be acceptable/feel the warmth of familial love.
posted by london explorer girl at 7:08 AM on June 12

Thanks so much everyone, this has been really helpful. I've ordered 'Good Inside' but it feels easier to go into reading about parenting with some real world examples. Like Pwoink, I find it hard on some level to believe any of the behaviours mentioned are actually real? or possible?

Also thanks for the range of qualities to think about beyond being emotionally demonstrative -- things like understanding, seeing, taking time, gift giving, fixing and making things for people, standing up to other adults. It does makes sense to me that he would find it hard to express emotions given his background, and I was trying to picture ways people who don't have mature emotional skills can find to still care for kids in some way. london explorer girl, bothering really resonated for me as one of the words I was reaching for.
posted by pandabanter at 9:07 AM on June 12