This text really feels special to me since it’s one of the main breakthroughs I’ve had since becoming a mother. Before I begin, I want to say that although we are a wife-husband type of family, it might feel familiar in a family of a different configuration. Or even better, this problem might not happen at all! But in case it resonates, in one way or the other, I hope it can bring some perspective.
When our son was born, in the midst of everything beautiful and intense that was going on, there was something not as beautiful. I started feeling very angry and resentful toward my husband, in a way that I could not explain. Of course, I blamed it on the hormones (oh, how the hormones can help us sometimes!) – and no doubt they played a huge part. There was also the sleep deprivation and emotional phase, but… there was obviously something else there, that at first I could not understand or articulate.
Little by little, I did, however. It really upset me that throughout the first months and semesters of our son’s life, I was not only the stay at home mother, but also my husband’s boss about everything related to our son: food, schedule, emotional needs, physical needs, logistics, education, etc. It felt quite overwhelming to work in caring for my son mostly alone, while he went to the office and traveled. But it was more than that.
I wasn’t feeling that I needed him to help with the house or bathe our son, or help me with the cycles so I could rest. This part he did well. But he did it asking me every step, waiting for me to present the difficulties, next steps, things we should be deciding and doing with my son’s reaching of the milestones. It was akin to being a guest at his own parenthood.
I needed him to be a partner, to have his soul and heart in the process. I needed him to be confident enough to look at his child in the eyes and figure out ways in which he could provide all aspects of comfort and stimuli. I wanted him to have that kind of intimate, compassionate, selfless relationship with our son. To decide with me, to analyze with me, to research with me, to think it though with me.
I realized that I was asking a lot. This was not simple thing. In order to do that, he had to connect to his own feelings and needs from childhood. He was not, as his father was not, as my father was not – and so many men I know – taught to ponder about, or to have a true voice and expression about the care and deepest needs of a child (and oftentimes were not even taught to connect with their feelings in the first place). These men were raised to work like crazy, and bring home money, and help their son’s mother in whatever ways they were asked. And play with the children – play a whole lot – and show them the world.
When I came to this realization through much thought and self-study, it hit me really hard that I was being very unfair and very wrong in my communication with my husband. He had no clue how to do what I was asking, and he was trying really hard – but he did not have it in him. Yet. He did not have this language as he had not grown up with it. He had his own childhood issues to deal with, and needed to rebuild his ideals of a father figure.
So, little by little, we began to transform. On my side, I started promoting alone time for the two of them, up to the point where they would spend weekend days alone. I tried my best not to criticize his efforts, and told myself that he was a different person than I am. If I wanted him to be autonomous in his relationship with our son, I needed to back off from bossing him around.
I took time to ask him about existential parts of our parenting – such as education, parenting, toys, TV (or not TV, or how much TV), celebrations and gifts, sleep, food, tantrums, and special emotional demands. And I would offer him websites and books and research about these themes, and encourage him to do the same. We eventually managed to slowly, and solidly, create a space for common dialog about life, parenting, and our expectations as a couple.
It is so easy to be trapped in the social expectations of our genders, while they are so not right for everyone – not even the majority of people. I see lots of Mommy & Me groups, or playgrounds, in which 90% of the time – or more – the mother is the only one with the children on any given day. That’s OK, as long as this is how it works for families and feels natural for them. But I would love to see more dads in these groups; or when I see them, I would love to see the whole environment be more friendly toward them.
The important lesson for us is that we should not make it mandatory, or automatic, to be the way we feel compelled to be by society. In our case, to think about all of this, and share, and communicate, as a couple, out of a place of compassion and love, brought into light one of the warmest, most caring and down-to earth fathers I could ever imagine! It makes me really comfortable now that, on any given day, I could be the one out in the world, working more and bringing more money in, and he could be the one backing off and being able to be present for our family – from a heartfelt, sincere place.
Now circling back: What can we do as parents to teach our sons to be connected to their own emotions, so that they, too, can become – if they want to – loving, present, connected fathers? First, we can consider stopping all the preconceived notions about having only girls play with dolls and strollers, and kitchens and food. What could possibly be wrong with a toddler imitating his loving father by caring for his toy? What could be wrong with a boy pretend playing that he is cooking, like his dad likes to do?
Raising men who are more in contact with their emotions (by the example of their fathers as well), does not make them more vulnerable, but stronger and more integral, able to make more organic decisions about themselves and others.
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Patricia Borelli is a yoga and meditation practitioner and teacher, who thinks a whole lot and loves to write as a way to help understand, and live, life. She currently learns and teaches at Hosh Yoga (Brooklyn) and Ishta Yoga (Manhattan – UES)
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