Digging Deep Within: An Essay

I’ve been thinking a lot about my life as I do my best to prepare for the gift of fatherhood. As I sit here at my writing desk in the quiet of dawn, I’m processing my journey thus far. My life is beautiful today, but that certainly wasn’t always the case. There were some tough days along the way that I still think about from time to time. It’s interesting how such a joyous occasion could evoke such emotion.

For years I made excuses for the people I loved, even those who perpetually hurt me without remorse or an ounce of consideration. My church preached love without boundaries, reckless forgiveness, and reconciliation at the expense of your own well-being. I built my foundation on these damning principles. I thought it was my job to fix people. I shared the burden of my parents’ missteps. On the surface, it was hard to see they’d lost their way. The multiple evictions, fighting, and accusations of cheating rocked my family. When their toxicity finally bubbled to the surface, my world completely crumbled.

There wasn’t accountability, there was blaming. They fought each other with cannonballs as my sister and I watched from the battle-torn trenches. Caught in the crosshairs of their dysfunction, I felt powerless. Stone by stone, the walls of Jericho fell and all they could think about was themselves. My parents could no longer hide behind their thin veil of perfection.

What do you do when the very people who were supposed to protect you were also turning your life upside down? I vividly remember the pain I felt during our first eviction. I was in high school at the time. We were angrily told to get over it. My sister and I became the collateral damage in their shock and awe campaign. We hotel-hopped, moved around, and struggled to find our footing for years. The truth was buried in a minefield. Trust was breached forever. We were children living in a web of confusion that our parents created. They considered themselves victims in an ugly world, but who really suffered?

While I have consciously made the choice to forgive my parents, I have not forgotten. When I became a man, I confronted them about the hurtful things they’d done. For my own sake, I had to talk to them about it. They never took ownership, but this was the beginning of creating boundaries. Although you move on in life, you never forget. It’s time to start holding the people we love accountable. Enforcing boundaries is the ultimate act of self-love. Boundaries are everything to me.

As the man of my home, I don’t allow venomous energy to enter my home. We close the door on it. If I can’t trust you, we can’t have a relationship. If boundaries are violated there’s nothing left. If you perpetually curate confusion, I cannot build with you. I learned early that some of the most hurtful people can be some of the closest people to you. Perhaps you can relate? Maybe you’re experiencing this today. There’s hope. When I was a young man, I endured. Today, I’ve taken the power back. I’m reclaiming my time and you can too. The beauty in all this is we get to eventually create our own path. We have the power to choose who we will allow into our lives, and how beautiful our lives will become.