Previously Known As Chopperpapa.com

The First Step To Being A Great Single Dad

2026-03-28T07:00:00.000-07:00

Statistics suggest there are currently over 23 million children in the US today whose parents are divorced. That’s millions of opportunities for children to be disappointed, discouraged, and made to feel insecure through the actions of their divorced, and often hostile, parents. More often than not the ensuing animosity and resentment, as a byproduct of the divorce process, can find its foothold with the children involved. Bent on revenge, parents will often use their children like chess pieces calculating which move will cause their opponent the most damage.

It’s believed that 85% of primary custody arrangements are awarded to the mother; with such high percentages it’s understandable for those fathers to feel alienated, bitter, and indignant. Two of the easiest ways a father can exact retribution on his now ex wife is financial punishment such as withholding support or through his irresponsibility in assuming the new role of a single dad.

One of the initial sensations a newly divorced man experiences is freedom. For the first time in sometimes decades he is free to do what he pleases when he pleases. No longer is it necessary to check in for the blessing of another individual. As often the case this new divorcee, with more flexibility now than maybe in his entire life, goes overboard. This becomes apparent in the man whose behaviors point to one who is trying to regain his youth. Suddenly his social calendar takes precedent as he feels as if he’s playing catch-up from all the lost years during his marriage.

Yet an unintended consequence of this newfound independence is the duties of a father suddenly take back seat to his personal life. And if left unchecked his behavior can deteriorate to a point where he’s completely disengaged from his children because they’re now seen as ‘cramping his style’. Before long he begins missing his visitation weekends, his son’s sporting events, daughter’s recitals. And other important functions get shelved for what he feels are more pleasurable endeavors. The end result is children who become so disconnected from their father they have no interesting in engaging in a relationship with him at all.

As I talk to newly and seasoned divorced dads I share with them, what I consider, to be the vital key for being a successful single dad. In the midst of the business of divorce, adjusting to old but forgotten single mindset, and starting a life over again, as fathers we can’t forget the importance we play in our children’s lives.

Above all else children of divorced parents need a father who is going to be there- he is going to be consistent. Kids of any age can grow to understand why mom and dad aren’t together anymore, but what they struggle with is why dad has suddenly disappeared entirely.

A consistent single father does what he says. If he is going to attend the play, he is there. If he’s going to take his son camping, they go camping. With over seven years of co-parenting I’ve come to realize that my kids could get over their parents splitting up, but they couldn’t get their father disappearing.

Originally published in 2012

Why He Doesn't Talk About His Porn Addiction

2026-03-28T06:55:00.000-07:00

There isn’t a man with a pornography addiction who hasn’t thought to himself “that was the last time”. That was the last time he would sneak off to the bathroom, lock himself up in his office, or slink into the basement to get his fix. It’s the point where he has finally reached the deepest point of guilt, shame, and disgust with himself. Sensing that what he is doing and what its led him to become is wrong he knows its time for a change. And being a typical man he sets about this journey of transformation - completely alone. He’s far too embarrassed to share his challenges with someone else and too prideful to seek the help of others but he’s convinced this time he can do it own his own, because he’s made this promise to himself before. The first sign of any addiction an inability to stop despite previous attempts to do so.

Porn is an alluring mistress. Though he starts again on the path with sparkling optimism life has a way of making us all U-turn. Maybe the job gets more stressful or the home front becomes rife with disappointments, and soon that hopefulness gives way to despair. And since he has no one in his corner to turn to for support he eventually goes back to the only source of comfort he has - his virtual lover who is just a few keystrokes away. And when he’s done and still left empty the disgust and regret returns like a never-ending spiral.

So many men struggle in silence with their pornography dependency for fear of shame, humiliation, and retribution if their secret was ever discovered. Their thoughts include, “What would people think if they knew I had this problem? How would they treat me? What would my wife do if she found out?” “What if my boss found out?”

The Internet is widespread with the stories of women who have been devastated by their partners’ porn habit. They feel betrayed, deceived, and rejected. Yet many more undergo feelings of guilt as if their behaviors had something to do with their partner resorting to such behaviors. From a man’s perspective, nothing could be farther from the truth. A wife is no more responsible for her husband’s porn addiction that she would be his golf handicap. And I’m persuaded this is why more women don’t take a stand, since doing so would be self-incriminating. But on and on the stories go of women who either ignored the signs entirely or felt it was his problem to deal with until it’s too late, when amid the consequences of his addiction she is left with no choice but to end the relationship.

Show me a man who’s cheated and I’ll show you one who had a pornography habit first.

Confronting a man about a pornography addiction may sound intimidating; it is his private life right? WRONG! From personal experience a man will unlikely ever break porn’s grip if he fights it on his own and I know of only one sure-fire method – it must be brought out in the open. Only by talking about it with others in a trusting and safe environment is there any chance for real healing. Much like the drug addict, the longer he keeps his secret hidden the deeper down the rabbit hole he finds himself, while he takes you with him.

First and foremost a wife or partner simply can’t knowingly consent to her husband viewing pornography. While you may pride yourself on being a ‘good wife’ and letting him be a man, that level of open-mindedness is a road to hell paved with good intentions. Not only are you allowing the problem, you are ultimately making it worse.

Once discovered your response to his secret will have a lasting significance in determining how he reacts. If you respond with retaliation and anger he will likely turn even farther towards what he believes brings him comfort. He’ll promise you never again and he’ll just hide it better next time. What he most desperately needs at this point is compassion, which will probably be difficult to give but only by exhibiting openness and concern will he be willing to talk openly. The goal in all of this is for him to be transparent about his habit.

He also must understand the disappointment and hurt that his actions have caused those around him and that this continued behavior will not be tolerated. And this next point is pivotal. It is absolutely essential that he commit fully to repairing the damage done and getting the help he needs. Regardless of how supportive you may be, unless he is willing to do what is necessary lasting change will never happen.

It’s here where one of two approaches should be taken. He either needs to seek professional counseling (religious or secular) and/or he needs to get involved with a group of respectable men to walk him through the next stages of the healing process. While he still desperately needs your support, history shows healing is most effective in the presence of other men. Plus you will likely need your own time for emotional and spiritual restoration resulting from his deception.

There are a significant number of resources available on and off line for individuals and their families struggling with a pornography addiction.

Sexual Recovery Institute is a secular organization aimed specifically at sex addiction problems including pornography addiction.
New Life Ministries is a faith-based organization with a program called Every Man’s Battle. They conduct intensive weekend workshops across the country for men focusing on pornography and sexual addiction.

Additionally, there are numerous Anti-Porn software programs that are designed to block inappropriate websites and even email specified individuals when the user attempts to access inappropriate websites.

X3Pure is a confidential on-line streaming video solution specifically for pornography and addiction.
This CNET blog post lists multiple software programs available for free download and for purchase.

Virtually every man will struggle with pornography. Regardless of how hard we may want otherwise we are visual creatures by nature and with easy accessibility it’s a battle that will keep men in the trenches their entire lives. But if we hope to end this cycle of addiction and sexual impurity it is up to men to raise the next generation of men to view sex, women, and pornography differently that what society tells us today.

And my own son is a constant reminder of that obligation.

I must be the man I want him to be if I am to be the father he needs me to be.

Originally published in 2012

What it SHOULD be like to date a single dad

2026-03-28T06:50:00.000-07:00

I’ve never considered myself a coordinated person. I’ve never accomplished anything of dexterity much more skilled than walking and chewing gum at the same time. But that changed when I became a single dad. Overnight coordination and organization became necessities. And add to that new reality the responsibilities of an employee, boss, and managing the nuances that come along with romantic relationships and I turned into a one-man juggling and tight rope-walking act.

There is an ample supply of single fathers in the world. With a divorce rate, depending upon whom you ask, at or above 50% there is an over abundance of them. And with such large numbers in the dating pool, the odds of a woman meeting and dating one of these single fathers is better than anything in you’ll get in Vegas. In fact I think it’s directly proportionate to her age; a twenty-five year old has about a 25% chance of dating a single dad and that number gets exponentially higher when she reaches her forties. But single father doesn’t mean ‘good’ single father, for every good one out there I can show you four aren’t worth a flip, and if a woman is thinking about dating these divorced dads how good of one he is becomes vitally important.

Several years ago I started living by the conviction that I can only be as good a man as I am a father and vice-a-versa. What I mean is that I can’t be a good man and be a lousy dad. Fatherhood and manhood are too fundamentally intertwined. Can someone who is cheating on his wife be a good father or one who has abandoned his children be a good man? And this is a fundamental fact that I think far too many women fail to grasp or recognize. Because any woman who will accept a man she knows isn’t fulfilling his fatherly responsibilities not only compounds the problem - she becomes the problem.

I haven’t always been the best dad - or man. Providence saw to it that I divorced when my kids were excruciatingly young (10 months and two and a half years), which in hindsight was a blessing because the first year after my divorce I was anything but illustrious. But the godsend was being able to hide my mistakes behind their innocence and youth, which allowed me to learn from them and figure some things about me before they started paying closer attention.

Dating a single father comes with an abundance of known and unknown obstacles, and women without children usually have the hardest time overcoming them. The baggage a single dad carries onboard won’t fit in the overhead compartment. I would immediately notice this tension if I had to change or cancel plans or I couldn’t do something on account of my kids. I could sense the confusion and dismay in their voice as if I had bailed on them instead because of a bad hair day.

There is what dating a single dad IS like and what dating one SHOULD be like and usually these experiences don’t correspond. A man who has prioritized his life in such a way that his actions and behaviors reflect his responsibilities will exude certain characteristics and therefore a relationship with him comes with certain expectations. Being a single dad for almost eight years, a really bad one and what the Queen says is a good one; I have identified five universal characteristics women should expect from dating a quality single dad.

You won’t always be #1 – prepare yourself to play second chair, often. His children were there before you and there will certainly be times when they take precedence over whatever you might have going on. While this intrinsically sounds understandable it often becomes unsettling when one stops to think kids take a long time to grow up. But don’t jump to quick conclusions. If he is thinking long term, he knows that kids grow up and move away so he should have a healthy balance of priorities between you and them. And you should remain flexible.
Be prepared to listen – Throw in anger, resentment, guilt, and a dash of pity and you’ve got enough ingredients for an episode of Dr. Phil. Co-parenting is challenging and doing so with someone you would often rather push into moving traffic is harder. After eight years I still get frustrated, exhausted and rely on the Queen to be my rock to lean on, shoulder to cry on, and ear to scream in.
Lean times ahead – Child support and alimony are French for “remove my wallet via my ass”. A divorced father who is fulfilling his financial obligations will inherently have less disposable income. It’s part of the territory. So when your DINK (dual income no kids) friends are living it up on weeklong trips to Fiji you may have to settle for a Labor Day weekend getaway to Cleveland.
Think long term – If you date a single dad, by default you are a step mom. Don’t let that freak you out; but if you are in his children’s lives they look to you as a role model, whether they know it or not. That means paying attention to the domino effect of parenting. What you do today will come back around later - in the form of their behavior and actions. Parenting is about being mindful to stay out of the moment and understand what happens today often has big impact tomorrow. Plus kids can’t keep secrets, so when their teacher asks where they learned that dirty word, don’t be surprised when you get thrown under the bus.
Drama is a’coming – If he is a single dad that likely means there is a single mom. Some of the craziest women I have ever known are divorced mothers; and mom madness gets intensified when she feels threatened by daddy’s new ‘girlfriend’. Not all drama is such a bad thing, that means she is paying attention, but when your car gets keyed or she calls DFACS in one of her spastic fits, start worrying.

I’m biased but I believe a relationship with a quality, divorced father can be the most fulfilling of any. There is just something special about men who have started to figure life out, know where they are going, how they will get there, and understand what’s important and what’s not. Unfortunately there are lots of single dads who haven’t gotten there yet and many will never. But when you experience these five characteristics that’s a sign you’ve landed one of the good ones.

Originally published in 2012

I’m a Single Dad, not a Child Molester.

2026-03-28T06:44:00.000-07:00

Let’s play a game.

Let’s say there’s a little girl we’ll call Brittany. Now Brittany is in the fourth grade at a school she’s been attending since kindergarten. She’s outgoing and cute, dresses odd at times, can be very funny, is a tad bookwormish, and is most definitively a Taylor Swift fan.

Brittany meets and becomes fast friends with another little girl in her class named Mallory. They both like the TV show Good Luck Charlie and Tap Pet Shop on the iTouch, not to mention Mallory also loves Taylor Swift. They quickly become inseparable pals eating lunch together daily, playing during recess, and drawing pictures of one another under rainbow and butterfly filled skies.

One afternoon Mallory comes running home from school asking her mom and dad if she can have a sleepover at Brittany’s house this weekend. It seems Brittany recently got Just Dance 3 for her Wii and they plan on having a dance party late into the night.

On the surface is this any different from the millions of other little girls who want to have a sleepover with their new best friend? Which in all likelihood means Brittany and Mallory’s parents will talk or meet up for a quick ‘get-to-know’ and it’s off to the races.

Oh, there’s just one small detail I left out.

In this case you’re Mallory’s mom or dad and the sleepover she wants with Brittany, well, it’s going to be at my home – her divorced, unmarried, single father.

So let me ask you this question. What is the very first thought that goes through your mind after realizing the house your daughter wants to spend the night at is that of a single man?

You don’t have to answer that because I already know. It’s something like this…

Oh snap!

And here’s a secret, it would probably be the same for me.

Next month marks seven years since my divorce, which is longer than I was married and nether of my kids know any different. That’s seven years of co-parenting on my own. That’s 2,555 days full of diaper changes, potty training episodes, nursing nosebleeds, performing tuck-ins, and reciting bedtime stories. I’ve doctored diaper rashes, attended parent/teacher conferences, and sat through a dozen God-awful elementary school musicals. I’ve read to classrooms, been a teacher’s helper, and ate $2.30 school lunches with a table of seven year olds. There are only two feats I’ve yet to check-off from the parenting manual - breast feeding and giving birth. And that’s only because I don’t come with the necessary accessories.

If the quality of a parent is based in any way on aptitude and performance I’ll be in the Mommy and Daddy Hall of Fame.

So why is it when Mallory asked if she could have a sleepover at my house you looked at your spouse and thought “how are we going to get out of this?”

It’s one of the harshest realities I’ve ever faced as an adult – that because I don’t live with a woman I’m somehow less of a parent. In the court of public opinion I’m a dad who’s guilty until proven innocent and even if I am acquitted I still need an ankle bracelet and must check in with my parole officer once a month. Because I failed at a marriage I’m no less inclined to fail as a parent.

Why, and this question is directed at me as much as anyone else, am I prone to feel way more uneasy if my kids are in a home where the person in charge isn’t a woman? Why do I tend to believe it isn’t such a good idea since there isn’t a mom around and therefore must make up some lame excuse for my kids on why they can’t spend the night? Why am I compelled to ask around, run a complete background check and ask for blood and urine samples because the dad isn’t married anymore? And why would I be more relaxed if it were at moms?

The fact isn’t lost on me that my daughter has tons of sleepovers but none of them are at my home. In the last nine years she has only had one friend spend the night and it was a neighbor who lived 200 yards away and her parents had me on speed dial. Sure, she wants friends over but it never seems to materialize. As if by magic the kids are always busy…until the next weekend she’s at her moms.

Why are single dads looked upon more critically than any another parent? While single moms are virtually sanctified to the level of Mother Theresa for their seemingly endless supply self-sacrifice single dads are expected to be self-centered, uncooperative, and unreliable - especially as a parent. It’s undeniable that a single father is regarded not primarily as father but as single and thereby is expected to act accordingly. Because we aren’t with a woman why is it assumed that we are prone to have the parenting skills of a green sea turtle? We invariably let our kids watch too much television, drink gallons of soda, and run with knives.

But let’s be completely honest. The actual reason we have a problem with it is that our kids staying with a single dad fills our minds with all sorts of dreadful images that are better left unsaid. And it’s all because he isn’t married or lives with a woman.

I could tell you that I, like most dads, just want the best for my kids and for them to have happy and joyful childhoods; I could also tell you that as a divorced dad I guarantee I work harder to provide that than any married dad ever will. I could also tell you, like all parents, I’m not perfect but unlike most I’ll admit a mistake and try to do better tomorrow. I could say it offends me that you to think a child would be any less safe and secure with me because a woman isn’t under roof. And I could mention that if you got to know me you’d soon realize I, and many other single dads like me, are anything but the deadbeat dads you hear about in the media.

But chances it wouldn’t do any good so instead I’ll just leave you with a remainder-

I’m a single dad not a child molester.

Originally published in 2012

Co-Parenting and the Permission to Love

2026-03-28T06:38:00.000-07:00

Co-parenting has nothing to do with kids and everything to do with parents. Kids can adapt - and given proper support, love, and patience - can, and will, thrive in the aftermath of a divorce. In those unfortunate but all too common instances where they don’t thrive, but instead suffer, doubt, and fear, it is not because of any fallout from divorce.

Most often, children struggle in the aftermath of a parents’ divorce because their parents fail, and specifically fail to do what is right over what is easy. It begins with putting aside differences, hurts, and jealousies. I once knew of an ex-wife so upset by her former husband’s new relationship, that she childishly keyed the woman’s car. I’ve known of fathers who will not pay child support, or intentionally pay late, in hopes of soothing their bitterness. I’ve heard first-hand stories of the diabolical lengths moms and dads go, out of pure revenge, to turn a child against the other parent.

If co-parenting has any chance of success, each parent must move beyond their fear, pain, and insecurity, which typically comes out of self interest, and do what is ultimately best for their children - even if that costs something. But there’s the problem and where parents routinely fall short. We’re completely on board with ‘putting the kids first,' so long as the other parent is paying. But when to do so costs us, suddenly things aren’t so simple.

The Queen and I knew that blending families wouldn’t be easy. We’d read and seen enough to understand some of the obstacles to overcome making our new family, and our new marriage, work. These headwinds were perhaps the biggest reason we waited so long, nearly seven years, before marrying. It’s also why we never lived together. We hoped the extra runway would be enough room for our kids to get settled with the idea of blending. We were committed to doing everything possible, even when it meant putting our wants on hold, to give that new life the best chance of thriving.

We were encouraged moving day. The first week of unpacking and getting settled fueled those hopes. Everyone got along, acted respectful, even loving at times. We started feeling like geniuses as if we had this stepfamily thing mastered. But it wasn’t to last, as the excitement wore off and life started again, we realized the novelty was masking problems. As our kids resumed their day to days, we began seeing cracks in the façade we had so carefully tried to paint.

We knew before getting married which of our kids would have the greatest struggle in a blended family – it was each of our youngest. A headstrong hard-working teenage girl and an audacious, attention grabbing, eleven-year-old boy. Both had their growing pains adapting to new people in the home, new routines, new rules, but the boy turned out to be the one we severely underestimated. Though he had known the Queen for nearly his whole life, within weeks of our marriage is was as if she had become a stranger. When he and the Queen were in the same room, the tension stuck to your clothes. He never made eye contact and rarely acknowledged her existence.

It affected the Queen deeply and caused tension between her and me. She would rightfully voice frustration about his behavior. Even worse, I felt entirely helpless. Two of the people I love most in the world can’t get along, and there was little I could do to make it better.

He and I had several conversations in hopes of understanding why things had changed. I learned little. He probably didn’t fully understand himself. The problems persisted. It was as if opposing magnetic forces were keeping him from moving a step closer. As the months wore on and the Queen tried moving more in his direction, he pushed further away.

One of our son's more endearing qualities is loyalty. He will defend those he loves tooth and nail sometimes to a fault. Add to that he is a people pleaser. We started to wonder if he felt he was betraying his mother by having a relationship with the Queen. I asked him this; he always said ’no.' But as time went on, I grew more and more convinced this was the issue.

One night last year the whole thing reached a tipping point and out of frustration I called his mother in a desperate attempt to see what she might know. Little was gained, but through that conversation, a belief was planted that has since grown into a conviction. One that perfectly reflects the idea of co-parenting and doing what is right for our kids instead of what is easy for ourselves.

Divorce tests every child’s loyalties and step-parents only intensify this, representing for most kids a mix of confusion and frustration. What box should this new person go? A friend? Fun aunt or uncle? Enemy? Or something else? What does it mean for me to love my new step parent? Will my biological mom or dad be upset? As an outside parent in the other home, we must help our children navigate this and not assume our children know how we feel. Remarriage changes things for a kid, no matter how long that new step parent has been in their life. And considering nearly 50% of children today live in stepfamilies, this is something we need to get right.

But it may be one of the hardest things we ever have to do.

My son needed assurance that having a relationship with the Queen, now his stepmother, would not upset his biological mom. He needed to know, directly and clearly from her, that not only was it alright that he loves his stepmother, but that she encourages him to do so. She can only open this door. Furthermore, she must keep it open by nurturing their relationship, supporting it by asking questions about how they are doing, reinforcing her approval by pointing to the Queen’s best qualities, and where appropriate defending her if he complains. We must not undercut a stepparent to relieve our insecurities.

For many, this seems an impossible task. We mistakenly fear the loss of influence or worse the stepparent moving up in priority. It’s asking far too much to support someone we may have hesitancy towards or dislike. It goes against our every intuition and worse our pride. But here’s the reality, it’s what our children desperately need from us! They need to know that we want them to experience as much love as they can get, even if that love may come from someone we may consider a threat. Because if we are truly committed to ‘putting the kids first,' we have an obligation, in fact, a duty to set aside our egos for our children’s best interests. Otherwise, we lie to ourselves and our kids.

Our son finally, and not without effort, received that approval. Nothing has had a more profound influence on his relationship with the Queen. While certainly not perfect, he at least knows that he has his mom’s permission to love.

Not because it’s easy for her, but because it’s best for him.

Originally published in 2017

Another Confession Of A New Step Dad

2026-03-28T06:30:00.000-07:00

As the Queen’s and my anniversary approaches, I am reminded again of all that has changed over these two years; new marriage, family, job, house, and becoming a step-father.

However, it is this last one, being a step parent, that, for me, has been most significant. I greatly underestimated the job. Parenting step kids is far different from raising biological children. Yet being a step dad has already given more than it’s taken. It’s taught me about myself, as a father and a man, in ways that I could not have imagined.

But for of all I’ve experienced and learned, from greater patience, deeper grace, to recognizing how I am routinely a raging hypocrite, what I could never have imagined then, but what seems obvious now, is the feeling and impact of once again living with a mother.

I was divorced when my children were nine months and two years old. For a decade, we lived in a home without a mom. It was just us, my kids and I. For ten years, I tucked them in, read to them, gave them baths, fed them, and kissed their boo-boo’s. I arranged their playdates, helped dress them, and made sure they got to recitals, birthday parties, and practices. For those concentrated periods of time, I was dad – and mom –rolled in one.

The three of us got into a unique rhythm that our little trio could easily follow. The cadence was comfortable and became expected. Not only did they grow accustomed to me as a person, my mannerisms, hot buttons, and shortcomings, they saw me, when we were together, in both roles. Yes, they had a mother, but during my time I was the proxy. Unlike nuclear families, where there is often a good cop bad cop, or he said she said, here I was both. They learned what could be gotten away with and where I would hold firm. What I said was all there was since there no other to run towards. They knew what to and what not to ask for.

Yet for all I might have been, I still wasn’t a mother and this distinction would become very evident when I married again.

Like many fathers, I am more inclined to be a parent of law versus one of grace. I believe in firm boundaries and high expectations. I have less patience and experience more frustration. I am a parent who holds to his word, sometimes to a fault and expects others to do the same. I’m a parent of consequence; do something wrong, and a price must be paid. I have little time for crying or whining. Moreover, while there is a great need, perhaps now more than ever, for that type of parenting style, healthy kids need both law and grace, and I know there were times, over that decade, when my wiring wouldn’t allow me to be what my children needed at the moment. When what they really could have used was warmth, sympathy, and forgiveness, they usually got cold criticism and ‘I told you so.' When they would have most benefited from mercy, they routinely got judgment.

I was a living example of the pitfalls of single parenting. Two parent families typically include both grace and law. However, for ten years, I was the only parent in our house, and when you don’t see a parent of grace in action, you may believe that law is the only and best approach. Worse still, without that opposing force - a natural friction exists between grace and law - you can easily drift further away from the center, in either direction. It’s no less true for a single parent of grace who has no parent of law for an anchor; it typically results in kids who, among other things, never hear the word, ‘no.'

Others were amazed that things ran with Six Sigma precision around my home and I was proud of my professionalism at managing household and children. I was told I was a great dad; my kids were well behaved and did well in school. All the accolades left an undeserved confidence because I began to think my way, the law way, was best. Not because it was, I just didn’t know or experience a different approach. I didn’t question and was never asked to question how or why I was doing things.

The necessity of motherhood can never be overestimated, I’ve written on this often. But what I realize now is my view was mostly mechanical and cerebral. My opinion wasn’t formed by direct observation but was mainly theory and conjecture because I couldn’t see motherhood daily in action. My own childhood became distorted with time; my sister reminds me that my perceptions of what happened as a child aren’t always what did happen.

While I knew that a child needs a mother, I’m not sure I understood the real reason why. It’s fair to say I didn’t properly understand or appreciate that need or the true power grace has in a child’s life until I was living with a mother of grace every day. Though I knew there was an ocean of difference between fatherhood and motherhood, I didn’t grasp how wide that distance was. Living with a mom, arguably, for the first time, changed that. Overnight I started doing life with a mother and a wonderful parent of grace. I started to see in the little moments, it’s impact and just how different, at times, the ways I did things and how I could have done some of them different, and better.

But living with a mom in the house isn’t without frustration, mostly on my part. Two years later and I’m still learning what it feels like to be pulled back towards the center. When I naturally want to lean into the law, to pass judgment and hold to account, I’ve now got grace whispering in my ear reminding me that sometimes there’s another way.

This takes on an entirely different element in blended families. Because when I want to apply the law, I must now be careful about whom it’s directed towards. I’ve realized step parents have limitations. There are certain things that for a step dad are outside my scope of responsibility. So, in my desire to parent as equally as I can, not playing favorites between kids, I’m forced to change. If I can’t apply the law equally, I’ve opted not to apply the law at all. That’s been hard for me to manage, it’s like a suit of clothes that doesn’t fit quite right. It’s one of my biggest challenges living in a blended family.

Being a stepfather has forced me to consider different perspectives. Living with a mother has modeled what it might look like. I’m blessed to have such a wonderful parent of grace, who has worked to pull me back towards the center. My children feel it even if they don’t know what to call it. The work done in me through this is something that could never be undone, even if I wanted. I’ve accepted that a child needs law and grace to grow into healthy adults. I know I'm a much better man and father than might have otherwise been, and I know it couldn’t happen without a mother in our home.

Originally published in 2017

Dating In The Gap

2024-10-03T07:36:00.000-07:00

My Aunt Lucille was the most sophisticated woman in our family. She was my grandmother’s youngest sister and her entire life seemed one big cosmopolitan adventure. The many years she spent in Atlanta coupled while remaining unencumbered by children only added to an already formidable metropolitan mystique. Her husband Uncle Kenny was known best for his Caribbean complexion, not because of his lineage but due to the countless hours spent each summer sunbathing in his back yard swaddled by the sounds of The Carpenters and Bee Gees emanating from his Sunbeam AM/FM radio. A visit to their home always felt like a vacation. Green PVC corrugated panels covered the roof of their suburban back patio from which the emerald hue gave off a tropical flavor that to a ten-year-old must surely have been what Miami or Bermuda was like.

Several years after my uncle’s death, of skin cancer coincidentally, Aunt Cile began spending time with another man. Rumor had it that she would have married Warren at the drop of a hat; he possessed that level of refinement she found so appealing, a mix of college professor and retired accountant. But for reasons that remain unknown their near decade long relationship never moved beyond the conventional ‘dating’ stage while their religious leanings and I think particularly their stage of life made it unthinkable to live together. Yet even in their late 60’s they carried a social calendar most couples half their age would have envied, they were inseparable and if not attending any number of family gatherings they could always be counted on for hobnobbing and painting the town - and doing it all as if they were teenage sweethearts.

Yet as I reflect back on it now, during those years and as close as they seemed I can never remember them alluding to each other in all that time as anything more than ‘my good friend’. This isn’t surprising in some respect, anything else might have tarnished their debonair refinement.

Like it or not we operate in a world of labels. Culture has done its best to package every part of the human experience into something that easily fits in the overhead. There’s little that isn’t stamped with a title, diagnosis, or classification. Designations seem almost vital to a properly functioning society and there may be no greater evidence of this than in the area of romantic relationships. I remember many years ago engaging in a sober and serious discussion with a girl I had been seeing and deciding in an almost business-like fashion, as if closing a deal, to move from just dating to actual ‘boyfriend/girlfriend’. We may have even shook hands. Without that important classification was established we were confined to a status of merely ‘hanging out’.

I believe we view titles, particularly those ties to relationships, as important because through them we are granted permission to set expectations and then provided the necessary grounds to hold the other accountable when boundaries are crossed. For example, is it still cheating if we are ‘broken up’ at the time? Without certain lines of delineation, relationships go off the rails into a world of chaos and uncertainty.

The bequeathing of a high school graduation ring was once the universal sign that a relationship was official – now this revelation comes in the form of a Facebook status. Today no relationship is deemed truly legitimate until its condition is reflected on one’s profile page. But it should be understood that such formalities aren‘t without certain advantages.

For the vast majority of teenagers and even twenty something’s who view commitment in any form tantamount to the removal of a bodily limb, these labels offer a level of assurance and certainty to those poor girls who are so desperately looking for it. Labels, for better or worse, are signposts used to navigate our lives.

Yet it’s these same labels that the Queen and I currently wrestle. Though still ‘dating’, it feels we’re getting to a point soon where the title of of boyfriend/girlfriend goes from exciting and cute to embarrassing and sad. It’s a fact that there comes an age where these adolescent name badges start sounding down right ridiculous. It’s that understanding that I have a greater appreciation for why my aunt and Warren handled things the way they did.

But the more I consider why this particular label bothers me the more I start to understand why. The boyfriend/girlfriend dynamic in general has been reserved for the young. It’s a rite of passage for a couple to first meet and then luxuriate in the relationship water that is ‘boyfriend/girlfriend’. But with this borderline religious sacrament comes the understanding that to be a boyfriend and girlfriend implies a certain level of frivolity and even irresponsibility. Boyfriends and girlfriends will and often do brainless things for no other reason than because they are young and in seemingly ‘in love’. That’s why it’s universally preferred for teenagers to date instead of marrying – if for no other reason than they have yet to extinguish enough of their youthful stupidity.

But while that’s expected of the young, where does this leave couples like my aunt and Warren, and even better, the Queen and I? We are well into our forties now, divorced, and parents. We’ve moved beyond the games of adolescent and twenty something dating but unlike my aunt and Warren we aren’t yet to the point where we simply don’t give a shit. I’m pretty sure that if either of us introduced the other as merely ‘my good friend’ it would be a long ride home later that night.

The Queen and I are currently in what I call ‘the gap’ or even better - the ‘no man’s land’ of dating. It’s a place many find themselves – between juvenility and senility – a place no dating relationship title or label seems wholly adequate for the job. ‘Boyfriend/girlfriend’ as has already been argued is just too jejune and ‘partner’ is just too stale, politically correct, and well, homosexual.

As insignificant as this all may appear and proof we have too much time on our hands, it is something she and I have talked about more than once. Much like my aunt, what label fits two people in our stage of life? And it bothers me more for another reason - our kids. What teenager seriously wants to introduce someone to ‘mom’s boyfriend’? - The trailer trash undertones are undeniable.

But on another note, if her sixteen-year-old son starts seeing someone maybe we can double date.

Originally published in 2013

Gods Of Clay

2024-10-03T07:23:00.000-07:00

In this, the most debilitating economic crisis since the Great Depression, there is one occupation that remains as robust and profitable as ever – the Hero. At no time since Pagan Rome and Julius Caesar is there more profound worship of the mere human. There is no place we can turn, no sport, industry, or amusement where one if not several within their ranks has not been escalated to the status of the holy divine. They have been turned into modern day prophets and we are their congregation listening as they minister from the sacred scripture of their accomplishments. Yet the price paid to receive such reverence and adulation is cheap by historical standards, it costs no tears or blood and can be bargained for with little more than beating analyst’s estimates, winning a Super Bowl, or starring in a video.

It’s been said, and I have to believe, that you can tell everything you need to know about someone in how the answer this question,

“What sort of people do you admire most?”

If you worship the game, then the athlete will be your idol and king. If you are awe struck by riches then the titans of business and affluence will be to whom you pray. If you glorify physical beauty then those behemoths of the fashion, fitness, and beauty world will be the altar where you kneel.

This isn’t an attack on success or achievement nor the appreciation and recognition that comes from another’s triumphs, but it’s the extremes of the thing that proves our diseased minds. It’s the hanging of our hopes, our identity, and even our self worth that speaks to the twisted nature - when we stop admiring and start exalting.

In a recent CNN.com article, the writer speaks to the fallout of the Penn State scandal and how it has toppled one of those modern day heroes and once again raises questions of our cult hero worship.

The author writes of such fallen idols as Joe Paterno, Tiger Woods, Bernie Madoff, and John Edwards and then asks the question, “So who's to blame, us or the guy on the pedestal? Are they bad people, or are we a bunch of suckers?”

It seems we are the real problem. We as a culture have this rarely talked about expectation that the character of the man is in direct proportion to the quality of the result. Or, “we generally assume these heroes are "good," at the very least, we dismiss their flaws, and assume their character is unchangeable.” And that mistake is ours to own when we make our gods of clay then rub our knees raw worshiping someone who, in the end, is as undivine and as small as we are. And as a parent I can think of few concerns more troubling than who my children will admire and ultimately emulate.

Scotch taped on a wall in my daughter’s room at her mother’s house is a full size magazine page of a teen movie star, shirt off, pecks bulging, abs ripped. When asked why she has such a picture all she can respond to is his name, the movie she saw him in, and how she thinks he’s cute. Chills run down my spine as I picture where that line of thinking could ultimately lead.

But isn’t her picture symbolic of us all? We knowingly choose to place others on pedestals, and like my princess, without knowing anything other than their win/loss record, latest hit, or previous year’s compensation. Then we go further by placing expectations on them, ones we could never meet ourselves, then feel betrayed when our savior isn’t able to deliver on the promise.

Most interesting in the Penn State outrage, I think, was the response against the school. The NCAA ripped away fourteen years of wins, bowls, and titles from the football program and its players and fined the school $60 million. Paterno’s likeness, much like overthrown pharaohs of ancient Egypt, is being chiseled away from every monument along with taking down his seven-foot statue at the entrance to Beaver Stadium.

Was this reaction a justified answer that reflected the evils of the case or was it merely an attempt to put a balm on the wounds of betrayal and hurt caused when their god turned out to be mortal and they were left standing amid the rubble of their own foolishness? The mistaken expectation of Penn State faithful had been that Paterno was the same person off the football field as he was on. "The boxes we put around people are false labels. It's an easy way to assume what they're like in our realm." But when that turned out not to be so, as it always does, retribution is the penance due when we discover our gods are nothing but wooden idols carved with our own assumptions and hopes.

This is one of the fundamental lesson I hope to teach my children, that it is normal to admire the athlete, actress, or singer for their God given talents and use those accomplishments as motivation in their own endeavors, but to also separate those achievements from the individual behind them. To never view that movie star as anything other than the undivine mortal creature she is, who is as weak and fragile as the rest of us.

That to appreciate someone does not mean to exalt them, and the lines they speak, lyrics they sing, and the scores they make will never describe the person behind them. So that when the idol comes crashing down they’ll never be standing bewildered among the broken shards of their gods of clay.

Originally published in 2012

5 Keys To Being A Great Single Dad

2024-10-03T07:13:00.000-07:00

If you’re a single or divorced dad I feel your pain. I’ve been one for seven years and have experienced every emotion you are or will go through. I know what it’s like to have a piece of your soul ripped away every Sunday evening, I’ve had the desire to take out a professional hit on my ex-wife, and I understand feeling like you are getting the raw end of the deal.

Being a single father means we may never have a traditional relationship with our children, we may not always be there to tuck them in or be able to band-aide every scrape but that doesn’t mean we can’t be any less than an extraordinary influence in their lives. Regardless of what media or culture says fathers are important and your kids need you whether you’re with their mother or not.

When I got divorced I didn’t get a manual or have a go-to person for help; my family was hours away, which meant I was on my own. As such, I’ve made almost every conceivable mistake a dad can from introducing the girlfriend early to horrendous potty training mistakes, but I also learned a few things along the way. I talk with lots of single dads and get to share my experiences. Below are what I believe to be the 5 most important steps every dad should take towards being a great single father.

1. Accountable – And yes I mean paying child support. I don’t care how irresponsible your ex is with money or how painful writing that check seems every month. It’s less unpleasant than going to jail and it makes co-parenting far easier. And if you’re unable to pay, then you need to man up and explain the situation and work something out. There is no excuse to disregard paying child support when you are able.

2. Consistency – Children from broken homes have enough to deal with already, they don’t need a father who doesn’t do what he says. That means being there for the football games, ballet recitals, and daddy/daughter dances if you say you’re going to. If you can’t make it then say so but don’t respond with ‘maybe’, kids take that to mean ‘yes’. Once there is an established visitation schedule stick with it, make that the top priority and if you must change call their mom and the kids to explain why. Don’t let your work or social life take time away from being a dad.

3. Boundaries – while the ‘Disney-Land dad’ is more often the musings of a jealous mom, many single dads are prone to let their kids get away with to much allowing them eat, do, and watch what they want simply because it’s easier. Kids need healthy boundaries from their parents and single dads are no different. We should establish rules when they are with us and while it helps tremendously if those boundaries are the same at mom and dad’s house isn’t necessary. My kids mother and I don’t always parent the same but the best I can do is worry about what happens at my home and do what I feel is best.

4. Family - you’re a family whether mom is in the picture or not and every family needs a home. It starts with something so basic as the kids having their own room. Our kids shouldn’t feel like they’re going to a hotel the weekends they are at dad’s house. Your home should feel like their home. That means keeping the house clean, well stocked with snacks and food, plus books and games they enjoy. That also means doing activities as a family like eating dinner together regularly, watching movies, going on vacation, or just spending electronic-free time together. One easy thing is to establish set TV and video game time.

5. Polite – Your ex-wife probably isn’t your best friend. Divorces are hell and emotions get scarred in the aftermath but it is essential that we NEVER speak negatively about our ex’s in front of the children; that includes snide remarks, off-color comments, or innuendos. That is pure selfishness with the underlying purpose of persuading our kids to pick sides. They should see you and mom as a united front with only their best interest at heart regardless of your actual feelings towards her. Anything less is completely unacceptable.

The modern family isn’t without trials and challenges. Co-parenting is as enjoyable as drinking hot Pepsi. But as fathers we will be an influence on our children, whether it’s positive or negative will be up to us.

Originally published in 2011

Love, Sex, and Thirsty Camels

2024-09-17T08:48:00.000-07:00

“Let her be the one you have chosen for your servant Isaac.” Genesis 24:14

The Queen and I first met at a bar. It’s not something we advertise. Similar stories usually end with hook ups and poorly. Ours, blessedly, led to meeting again the next day at church, and eventually marriage. We downplay the ‘bar’ thing, instead of saying it was a ‘restaurant,' they technically did serve food. Why we do this, I’m not entirely sure. It may have something to do with the images ‘bar’ convey, or maybe it’s too similar to my former marriage, she and I also met at a bar, one that didn’t have food. And if you’ve visited this website before, you know how that ends. So there’s a fear not to jinx it. But perhaps, and I think this get us closer to the point, our story reflects a complete lack of intentionality. I mean honestly, how uninspiring and unoriginal?

Besides, it models nothing positive for our kids except to demonstrate that a good way of going about the most important earthly relationship in life is a great happy hour and ‘winging it.'

As I’ve written before, when it came to sex and dating, I was naive from the onset. My parents, God love them, told me nothing. Maybe that’s because they knew I wouldn’t listen. So, as I entered those pivotal young adult years, I had no idea about relationships, though believed I knew everything. I could tell you where babies came from, and I’d seen enough porn to explain how it happened, but besides that, I hadn’t the slightest notion of what was important. I didn’t know what to look for in a woman and future wife. I had no inkling of what to pay attention to in her character, her virtue, or her self-respect. I was left without a rudder and drifted aimlessly, and that vacuum was filled with my own expectations formed entirely by the world around me. Ultimately they boiled down to this – was she reasonably attractive and did she have a southern drawl. Those were my deal killers. If she looked relatively good and didn’t sound like she walked out of the trailer park, everything else was negotiable. But, I don’t think I was alone, at least on the first part. It seems looks are all that matters for most men. The accent thing, well, that requires a whole other essay.

This is something that has been ‘praying on my mind’ of late as my kids get older. The biological aspects of sex and relationships are thoroughly established. My son, at 12, has more knowledge about the birds and bees than most kids in high school. I started those conversations at a young age, probably too young. But it’s these more refined elements of relationships that have my attention, yet those are the ones that cause us the most enduring problems.

I’ve come to believe the ‘sex conversation’ with our kids should happen on a continuum, moving from the tangible to the intangible. In the early years, it’s the mechanics of it all, how this works and where that goes. But as they get older the abstract elements become critical. How to ready them for the more elusive details, those that lead to divorce and heartbreak, become more important. Helping them to form a clear mental, emotional, and spiritual picture of what that other person and their relationship should look. To educate them that sex can lead to more that just pregnancy or STD’s.

That begins for the Queen and me by trying to model it ourselves. Perhaps the very best thing two parents can do for their children is having a great marriage worthy of imitation. To show them in real time what love, honor, and cherish looks like. Talking is one thing, but living it is where the best lessons get learned. Yet talk we must, otherwise our kids may still end up just like I did, moving off into the rest of their lives lost and searching for their own answers with wrong questions.

The story of Isaac and Rebekah drove this home for me. Abraham was nearing death and his son, Isaac, the one promised and whose origin wasn’t weird, remained unmarried. So, Abraham, knowing he wouldn’t be alive long enough to do so himself, instructed his servant to ‘get a wife for my son.' What happens next is what’s stuck in my head. Abraham and this servant demonstrate what parents, I believe, are called to do for their children, minus creepy oaths.

Matthew Henry, in his exhaustive commentary, explained it this way,

He (the servant) knew that a prudent wife is from the Lord. He desires that his master's wife might be a humble and industrious woman, bred up to care and labor, and willing to put her hand to any work that was to be done; and that she might be of a courteous disposition, and charitable to strangers. When he came to seek a wife for his master, he did not go to the playhouse or the park and pray that he might meet one there.

Nowhere did this servant look for a wife who was ‘hot’ or with a ‘smoking body.' He didn’t care if she was outgoing or easy to talk to. He knew Abraham wanted much more for Isaac. Instead, this servant looked to the inside, paying attention to the things that mattered most, to what wouldn’t wrinkle or sag with time and age. He looked for those timeless character traits that don’t require Botox or a personal trainer.

May it be that when I say to a young woman, ‘Please let down your jar that I may have a drink,’ and she says, ‘Drink, and I’ll water your camels too’—let her be the one you have chosen for your servant Isaac. By this, I will know that you have shown kindness to my master.

Imagine for a moment if, as parents, we were as intentional with our children? What if we helped our kids see love, sex, and marriage in those more concrete and lasting terms? What if we, through observation and our own experiences, helped our children not to just understand the physical aspects of what love, sex, and relationships mean but to go further and assist them to craft a clear mental image of what ‘the one’ should look like. What if I reinforced for my kids the necessity of being equally yoked, to grasp how to spot a right view of money in another and why that’s so important, or the necessity of faith. What if they were to begin painting that picture with more than just the superficial colors of a beautiful face, great job, or six pack abs, and instead used the more boring, but longer lasting, hues of self-respect, integrity, and kindness. What if we taught our sons to see beauty in one’s modesty and our daughters to honor another’s humility? And to begin looking for those qualities, first. What if we helped them to emphasize the qualities of compassion, sacrifice, and good will instead of accomplishment, gain, and ego?

I spend so much time molding my son be the right guy but am I showing him what to look for in the right girl. I want my daughters to be strong and courageous but am I teaching them how to spot the same in the men they will meet? I think, if honest, our answer would cause us pause with embarrassment. Mine does. Maybe we don’t do this because we feel it’s not our place. We’ve made too many mistakes, who are we to tell another what should be most important and what to look for? Maybe our relationship or marriage isn’t what we want it to be so we would feel like hypocrites.

I disagree.

In fact, it’s because of our mistakes, our poor choices, and our selfish motives that are not only qualified, but we also actually have an obligation so that we can perhaps help our kids avoid similar futures. We will unlikely ever be asked to get a wife for our son, or husband for our daughter, but then they will use whatever map is available. And that will either be one traced out in the love and support every parent desires for a child or it will be one they draw out for his or herself. It’s only a matter of which will lead them in the right direction.

Originally published in 2016

She Doesn't Want Sex Anymore And Why It's Your Fault

2024-09-17T07:57:00.000-07:00

The recent announcement by Marianne Gingrich of her former husband and 2012 presidential hopeful Newt Gringrich’s appeal to open up their 18 year marriage so he could pursue a sexual relationship with his congressional aide and now wife has unleashed a firestorm of criticism and once again brought the whole necessity of marriage back into question. It was Mrs. Gingrich’s refusal to be tolerant, understanding, and more sensitive to her ex husband’s sexual needs that undoubtedly lubricated their eventual divorce.

Whether this in fact did happen or is just a well-timed ploy to ruin a presidential race is inconsequential to me. I could mention that all of Washington is in the toilet so what’s another turd, but I don’t care and this isn’t that type of blog. Regardless of one’s partisan interest the ABC interview did let loose a flurry of writing activity as bloggers all over, looking to exploit the hottest keywords, chimed in with their own two cents. Outside of the political pundits’ agendas, in most cases, Marianne is rightfully cast as the moral matriarch who was blindsided by a husband’s greed, ego, and arrogance. But what I have found most interesting wasn’t these articles’ defense of her decision, but the numerous reader responses maintaining that she should have been a better wife.

If I read one more comment saying how “if she had only taken better care of his sexual needs this would have never happened” I swear I’m going to climb a tower and start picking off pedestrians. To begin with, how do they know she was the problem in the bedroom? And why is it in the blogging world the narcissist always hides behind ‘anonymous’ when spewing out their I’m –the-center-of-the-universe life philosophy. On and on their comments go ranging from condescending judgments on how she could have tried harder at keeping her man happy to moans about their own marital problems and specifically how he wants sex and the wife doesn’t. As if trying to convince total strangers he’s the good guy while his wife has become the cold-hearted inconsiderate Wicked Witch of the West.

How often do we hear complaints from men that their wives refuse to have sex with them anymore? Sometimes they’re in a twenty-year marriage while for others the ink hasn’t dried on the marriage certificate yet, but the messages are similar. To hear them tell it, one morning she woke up and over coffee simply decided she’s done with sex. She’s locked it up and threw away the key while he’s become the innocent bystander caught in the cross fire of her exhaustion, mood swings, apathy, or insensitivity claiming to have done nothing wrong to deserve such treatment.

At some point men latched onto the belief that after marriage their only job, when it comes to sex, is show up; that the price for admission to the big house, nice car, tennis on Tuesdays, and annual beach vacation is his wife’s legs spread whenever and wherever he wants. Husbands have bought into the notion that sex is owed to them without thaving to perform any of the heavy lifting. Because he put a ring on her finger it’s now alone her spousal duty to scratch whenever he has an itch. I’m not quite sure when or where husbands got the thinking but it’s led to this sense of entitlement that sex is a marital debt wives are contractually obligated to repay. With this type of attitude, is it any wonder women withhold sex from their husbands?

No, I’m convinced your wife wants sex; she just doesn’t want it with you and you’re to blame for it.

Let me ask, would you still work at a job that hasn’t paid you in three years? Well that’s the last time your wife had an orgasm during sex with you. And you’re so selfish and out of touch with reality you don’t even know it. You’ve made sex all about you for so long you’ve totally forgotten her satisfaction. Whether she enjoys it isn’t your primary concern. And you’re such a clueless arrogant ass that while you think she’s in the throws of ecstasy she’s actually wondering who’ll get kicked off the Bachelor tonight. And as you get dressed basking in your glory, she is sitting on the toilet wondering why she even tries.

In the pioneering days our forefathers did good to put food on the table and keep their families from being eaten by bears. He’d head out into the fields every morning and come back when the sun went down. It was the wife’s job to raise the kids, patch the roof, clean the cabin, and tend the garden. But this isn’t 1856 and we’ve traded in the mule and plow for a SUV and blackberry and bears are kept in the zoo, so why do you think it’s still her sole responsibility to take care of the kids? Besides the full time job she must work because you want a bass boat, it’s also her job to rush and get them from daycare, go home and check homework, fix dinner then get everyone bathed and ready for bed. While you sit in your recliner decompressing from your week long business trip to Las Vegas.

You’ve never been with a super model so why are you disappointed that you’re wife isn’t one and that you think you deserve one? And what’s even worse you let her know in not so many words, all the while forgetting the hypocrite you are because I’ve been in the men’s locker room and if you could see what I do you wouldn’t have sex with you either. Candidly you look like shit. You have a Persian rug on your back, you’re whiter than snow, and you’re still wearing clothes from Woolworths. You’re lucky if you can make it up the stairs and can’t see your own kneecaps but you have the nerve to say that she’s ‘put on a few pounds’. You don’t have the right to call your wife fat unless you have a six pack and have been on the cover of GQ Magazine.

Valentine’s Day you got her a wet/dry vac. The last time you brought home flowers was the Reagan administration and the only texts you send her say you’ll be home late again. You have forgotten more birthdays and anniversaries than she can count and she hasn’t felt special in so long she wonders if she’s still a woman. You never call her during the day to tell her you love her and you’ve totally forgotten all the reasons that made her say ‘yes’ in the first place, how you pursued, chased, romanced, and made her feel like the only woman in the world. It’s a not coincidence you didn’t have sex problems back then.

That’s just a few examples why she isn’t having sex with you any more, and honestly, are you surprised? Are you shocked that she’s become so indifferent and uncaring towards meeting your needs? She’s acting no differently than you are, she’s just doing it in her own way. She doesn’t owe you sex! It isn’t a debt or obligation she took on when she married you! Sex isn’t the problem - you are the problem. You’re the problem because you’ve stopped trying. You’ve stopped working at it. You don’t make her feel beautiful, special, honored, cherished, or respected anymore.

You don’t make her feel loved anymore.

You’ve forgotten the vow you made.

No go see if you can fix it.

Originally posted in 2012

Marriage Isn't The Problem, The People In It Are

2024-09-17T07:43:00.000-07:00

Anthropologists calculate the institution of marriage, or something you and I would recognize as such, to date back almost 5000 years. The earliest known marriage certificate, in this case a marriage contract, involving one woman and one man occurred in 2350 BC in Mesopotamia, or modern day Iraq. Over the ensuring centuries marriage evolved, influenced by culture and religion - especially Christianity - to eventually become what you and I know it as today. Marriage was officially added as one of the seven sacraments of the Catholic Church in the 12th century forever placing it among the most sacred of undertakings. There’s no denying that matrimony between a man and woman is a cornerstone human civilization.

Yet with five millennia of historic precedent to support the idea of life long marriage between two people why is the noise about its necessity and future louder now than ever before? Is there any remaining rationale for marriage or are we just kidding ourselves? Has marriage finally met its end?

In my last post on sexless marriages a commenter responded:

“This article reaffirms my opinions on marriage. WHY do people get married? If you’re not religious, what the %^$* is the point?”

Unfortunately many share this same pessimistic view of wedlock. It’s as if getting married is like someone trying to fit a round peg into a square hole, like we are being asked to become something we’re not. We’ve gotten to the point where we are now asking, biologically speaking, if humans are even capable to being monogamous to one person for life. The naysayers cite the high divorce rate, unhappy marriages, and cohabitation in lieu of matrimony as evidence enough that marriage is circling the drain. Though we rarely pay attention to the fact (depending on your age) that our parent’s, grandparents’, and great grandparent’s generations were incredibly successful at it.

So, what is the immediate response, to question the entire concept of marriage? “Does marriage work?” “Is it necessary?” , “Why bother?”, “What’s the point?” We act as if what has worked for fifty centuries has, in the last week, suddenly ran its course and it’s now time for something different! There’s even a new term added into national lexicon which attempts to answer, if not reinvent, this notion of humans and monogamy. Now, instead of simply being monogamous we are quickly becoming ‘serial monogamists’ or when an individual is loyal to one mate for a given amount of time. While that keeps humans atop the evolutionary tree above an amoeba or spider monkey we now have a scientific answer for when we want to sleep around.

This woman’s response to my post was like one of those ah-ha moments as I reread her challenge to the concept of ‘’till death do us part’. Is marriage now a waste of time? Are we indeed trying to get blood from the proverbial turnip? Are we putting more importance into it than it deserves? Is the current divorce rate and seemingly endless tales of adultery, unhappiness, and lack of fulfillment in its confines an indication that lifelong monogamy itself a practice in futility?

The more I thought about her response the more I became convinced that the institution of marriage itself has been and remains completely flawless. Believing anything otherwise would be like saying the wheel is suddenly a bad idea. The hope that one man and one woman can create, nurture, and sustain a physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual bond for life is a desire etched into our very DNA. Even in the most adamant opponent of marriage there resides a longing for a lifelong commitment with one person, whether they choose to admit it or not. Regardless of how independent they may be, no one wishes to die alone. Even if they’re convinced the basis for marriage is flawed they still yearn for the opportunity to connect intimately with one person, to allow guards to fall completely and just ‘be’ with someone who knows their inner workings better than anyone else.

One needs to look no further for proof of this than the number of divorcee’s who remarry. If there were anyone with the justification to question the fruitlessness marriage it would be the person who already tried and failed. Yet if marriage itself were the problem why would anyone every try it again? Even looking through the lens of their own marriage nightmares they still want to be a part of it. It remains a risk well worth the reward.

Within the precepts of marriage lies the very foundation of our humanity – the family. If you permanently take away that stitch from the fabric of civilization the entire thing unravels. Any divorcee, especially those with children, will admit that regardless of how miserable and malcontent they were in the marriage, even in the worse of cases of physical, mental, or verbal abuse, there remains deep inside that desire to have back marriage represents. I’m fully convinced that humans are not only capable of - we are designed for - life long commitment to one person.

Marriage isn’t the problem; the people in the marriage are the problem.

America has the highest divorce rate of any country on the planet at almost at four times the world average. Our Canadian neighbors are only two times more apt to divorce compared to the average while our Latino friends to the south are four times less likely. So let me ask, if the institution of marriage itself is the over-arching problem wouldn’t it stand to reason that we would all share similar divorce rates? I mean no matter if you are from the US, Russia, Japan, or the Island country of Nauru aren’t we all the same with similar dreams, ambitions, and desires – isn’t that what the song says?

No marriage isn’t the problem we are the problem because of the expectations we have placed upon it. We’ve fabricated marriage into something it isn’t. To it we’ve attached our identity, self-worth, feelings of success, and most importantly our basis for complete happiness. We’ve come to believe that marriage will take away all of our problems, will keep him from sleeping around, will cause her to stop abusing drugs. Marriage will complete us and make everything right, or so we believe. But what or who could ever live up to those expectations? We have placed on marriage, and by association the other person in it, responsibilities that we could never meet ourselves.

And therein lies the issue - those beautifully flawed people who enter into marriage. All of us, with our issues, baggage, narcissist tendencies, and insecurities become burdened with our partner’s expectations and vice-a-versa. We expect that because we are now married it will fix those things we can only fix ourselves. Humans have this nasty habit I like to call ‘avoidance’. We like to avoid real problems by laying blame at the feet of something or someone else. It’s so much easier to talk about our friends’ screwed up life than to look in the mirror at our own. It’s more fun for me to point out that speck of dust in your eye than work on the branch in mine. Instead looking at the people as why the marriage didn’t work we would rather criticize marriage itself. Does my ex-wife deciding to cheat on me make marriage, by itself, a bad idea? Would I not have every right to paint marriage as the culprit, the reason she cheated and thereby seeing it as pointless? Of course not, that’d be like saying because my truck broke down automobiles are useless and I should start walking to vacation.

My children are in the unenviable position of being the first in my family to be raised in a broken home. Their life is drastically different from that of their cousins. Their experience of family will remain far different from mine. But I’m certain that when my daughter dreams about her future it will not include serial monogamy, child support, visitation, or separation agreements. No, she will be dreaming of a white knight riding in on his magnificent stallion, sweeping her off her feet, and riding her into the sunset where they will live happily ever after. Because something inside tells her that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

Originally published in 2012

Getting Married Does Not Make Your Relationship Better

2024-09-17T07:09:00.000-07:00

I know a thing or two about marriage. My first was finished before I was 35 and we were married almost seven years, even by today’s standard that’s fast out of the gate. I’ve now been divorced as long as that entire marriage lasted and in that time I’ve had plenty to ponder about why it went sideways. Of course an affair will put the quash on pretty much any marriage but as they say hindsight is always 20/20 and I’ve come to recognize some warning signs I should have paid attention to long before I said “I do”.

Many of those flags started waving early on, long before the engagement ever took place. Flags so bright they apparently blinded me from reality and the eventual impact they’d soon have like our differences on faith, money, children, and the future in general. Several of those chasms were so wide it’s a wonder we lasted as long as we did.

But being a young buck in my mid 20’s I thought I knew everything and approached our dating relationship like I was playing the stock market. I even told a friend once “it’s like an investment that I need to get a return on” - we’d been dating all of 18 months at the time.

Courting, or dating as we more informally call it, is that period before the engagement and marriage where both people are getting to really know one other. And much like the root of that word ‘court’, it’s a time to put each other under an informal cross-examination. It’s like a drawn-out courtroom trail to learn what’s the truth and what isn’t.

The divorce rate in America is almost 60%, we’re obviously ‘dating’ the wrong way.

Why is that? Why do so many mature sane people date, marry, ultimately divorce and then complain their ex-spouse had the issue all along that helped cause the breakup? “He was always a big time flirt when we were dating”.

We believe that getting married will make the relationship better.

Somehow we have misled ourselves be into believing that a bad relationship will become better after vows are said and rings are exchanged. Where we’ve learned this idea is a mystery to me. But if I were to speculate I’d say we think that once we’re married our spouse will take this most sacred act of commitment as the sign that it ‘s now time to get the act together. That somehow a marriage certificate is all it takes for somebody to finally ‘shape-up’. That’s like deciding to buy a car with a flat time and hoping it’ll inflate after the paperwork is done.

That way of thinking also implies that marriage is easy. That once we are in matrimonial bliss we’ll be so preoccupied by the rainbows and butterflies there won’t be any time for slamming doors and nights on the couch. All that’s needed is to talk with any married couple and ask them if their relationship got easier after marriage. Did his porn addiction or her drinking problem suddenly vanish after the cutting of the cake?

A relationships doesn’t get easier after marriage, it gets harder.

You knew she had a spending problem. It seemed to often her money ran out before the month did and she’d pull out one of those credit cards to make up the difference. Unwisely however, you were sure she’d fix that once it became both of your money so you disregard the signs and walk down the isle. Now instead of it being her spending problem – it’s your spending problem.

One thing I’ve learned over the years is people will change only when the pain of staying the same becomes more than the pain of changing. They might say they will and may even show signs for a while, but unless they’re doing it for themselves, change never lasts. And the very best thing you can do for yourself and that person is to talk with them about the problems in the relationship. If those talks lead to a permanent change in behavior then great, you’ve taken a big step in strengthening your relationship. But if the desired change doesn’t happen then the only thing left is to get out of that relationship altogether. Maybe the pain of loseswill drive him to stop drinking and if so maybe there’ll be a chance to rekindle the romance, but if he doesn’t then you will have saved yourself from much more painful heartache later down the road.

Originally published in 2011

Five Reasons He Doesn't Talk To You

2024-09-17T07:00:00.000-07:00

If there is one relationship flaw virtually ever man gets tagged with it’s how he doesn’t talk. And by talk I don’t mean a discussion of golf handicaps, the stock market, or Sports Illustrated swimsuit models. I’m referring to revelations of his inner workings, what’s going on within that masculine mind of his, what he’s really thinking.

I’m not quite sure if every human male is inflicted with this malady or just the stars of sitcoms and feature length relationship dramas but evidence abounds that men keep their emotional cards close to the chest. And in almost two decades, which involved several committed relationships including marriage, I must admit I’m as guilty of this unseemly personality trait as the next Joe.

But in that time I’ve come to understand, through my own experiences and talking with and listening to other men, what I believe are the handful of reasons why so many of us men almost seem allergic to opening up with the women in our lives.

I don’t have a PhD in Psychology, only real world experience and Southern common sense - plus I’m pretty good at contemplating why I do what I do and I’ve dealt with each of these at some point in my story. And candidly, I don’t think I’m much different than the average guy.

He doesn’t think you’ll listen – Some of the poorest listeners I’ve ever known are women. The inability to be a good one is not a man-only problem; women are just as focused on getting their point across - and just as quick to hurry the other person along so they can do so. Plus many women I know have the propensity to take another person’s issue and use it as their launch pad to talk about their problems, which are invariably worse than yours. Men have learned that women don’t need them to solve a problem - just listen. The thing is, that works the other way just as effectively.

He’s afraid you’ll judge him – The most fragile thing God ever created was the male ego. Never lacking in its need for stroking and boosting, the slightest criticism can send most men into a three-day depression. I know because this has been my Achilles’ heel throughout life. What’s the point of explaining why we’re unhappy, depressed, or angry if we’re just going to be reminded that “I told you so” or “You should have known better”? We likely feel stupid already; we’d rather not be told we are also.

He needs time to process it – The human female tends to communicate unfiltered. Whatever happens to her or whatever runs through her mind immediately gets discussed. Men don’t usually work that way. The Queen has learned if I’m faced with a crisis I need to take time and process it, look at it from angles, and get my T’s crossed and I’s dotted before I open up and talk. I was laid off from a job in the spring of last year, the moment I found out I called the Queen but before she launched into a myriad of questions she gave me the rest of the afternoon to sort things out and get my bearings straight. Don’t expect him to begin confiding his deepest feelings five minutes after getting bad news.

He’s scared you’ll get upset and leave him – There are thoughts which go through men’s minds that scare the hell out of even them; feelings that send chills down their spine and leave them wondering if there is something seriously wrong. There’s not a man I know whom at some point hasn’t wondered, “What would she think if I told her how I felt?” It may surprise women to know that what they think does matter, regardless of what he might say. And it scares him stiff to think you would be so disappointed in him to suddenly want out and that you suddenly realize how big of a mistake you’ve made.

He doesn’t respect you – As harsh as this is going to sound it is an absolute reality. I know a lot of men and most of them will only talk about personal problems or issues with someone they completely respect, absolutely trust, and fully admire. A man will not reveal his inner workings to anyone he doesn’t respect, no matter who they might be and that includes a spouse. My ex-wife is a perfect example. There was little I shared about my inner life and personal problems I faced, seeking instead the help of a therapist and a prescription of anti-depressants.

It’s a myth that men never talk about their problems. I know countless numbers of them who do because I’ve been part of those conversations. And in them they’ve shared why they aren’t talking about this with their wives and girlfriends. But don’t take my word for it. If the man in your life isn’t talking to you, I’m willing to bet he would, if you let him.

Originally published in 2012

Fifty Shades of Hope

2024-09-14T08:18:00.000-07:00

The phenomenon of Fifty Shakes of Grey baffles me. Critics claim the writing is insipid likened more to the musings of a teenage schoolgirl than an author whose pen has garnered international fame. Yet the books’ success is undeniable and has sent publishers of a genre historically reserved for middle-aged single women with too many cats scrambling to repackage former ‘romance’ classics, and hopeful EL James’s furiously pounding the keyboard - no pun intended.

Why I give an iota about the novels I can’t say for sure, maybe it’s their meteoric success or why a storyline that seems to epitomize what women throughout history have fought hard to overcome. What I can state emphatically is that I haven’t read the books - entirely. How the first two installments landed in my possession at all is definitive proof a higher power, and while most men would have left them on the dining room table I was intent on deciphering what makes them irresistible to so many.

Desiring to learn what it is about this particular flame that’s drawn so many moths I scanned the pages in search of its magic ingredients. I immediately discounted the gratuitous sex scenes out of sheer absurdity (i.e. a twenty something virgin, never kissed, but gets her world rocked right out the gates, right?!?!), and massive boredom forced me to pass over the tedious email interludes between main characters that seemed little more than filler. But buried in the final pages of book one I finally happened upon the treasure I sought. After the heroine had been submissively ass-kicked into humiliation by her billionaire masochistic boyfriend, she indignantly dumps the psychopath on the spot and leaves his mansion with these thoughts,

“I climb into the back of the car…Embarrassment and shame wash over me. I’m a complete failure. I had hoped to drag my Fifty Shades into the light, but it proved a task beyond my meager abilities.”

And there it was. I had followed the rose line and found the Holy Grail. Now I understood that while the sex, bondage, and carnality might have grabbed the attention of these women, what kept them turning the page was something more prfound – hope. A few weeks later this notion was confirmed when I asked a woman who had read all three books why she thought Fifty Shades of Grey was such a success,

“They give women everywhere a glimmer hope that they too can fix their man. If Anastasia can change someone as f*ed up as Christian Grey there’s hope for all of us.”

Generally speaking men don’t have the best reputations. In many respects this is our own doing. Men are most often recognized by their character flaws given labels such as cheaters, liars, and narcissists. All of this leaves women, single and married, wondering where all the good ones have gone, if any are left at all. The consensus is, given credence by sitcoms and daytime talk TV, that with such meager pickings in the man pool women have no choice but to reach down in the muck of masculinity and pull up whatever will suffice, then spend the rest of her days trying to conform him into what she hoped for all along.

When it comes to relationships between a man and woman there’s an understood dynamic that gets rarely talked about, the woman is to be accepted for who she is which includes her bitchiness, mood swings, and insecurities – calling it part of the package. And a man’s failure to do so tags him as controlling, demanding, even misogynistic. While he, on the other hand, is a raw lump of clay waiting to be shaped into something of beauty, form, and function. And should he fight against this ‘improvement’ he gets labeled stubborn, insensitive, and well, a man

Most men, if pressed, would admit to experiencing this first hand- the pressure to become something that seems more palatable and easy to digest. While the majority of women, if answering honestly, would confess to pushing for it, all the while feeling altruistic in her tolerance of his repeated disappointments and her continued attempts at turning Mr. Maybe into Mr. Right, while claiming it’s all in the name of love. Which brings me back to Fifty Shades of Grey.

Christian Grey is uncommonly handsome, unimaginably rich (he bought a company just because his girlfriend worked there and he thought her boss wanted to sleep with her), loves her with the intensity of Charles Manson, and pursues her with the ferocity of a serial rapist; all of which apparently makes up for his clinical insanity, controlling nature, premeditated abusiveness, and the incapability of expressing love unless he’s sexually humiliating her or treating her as a blow up doll or punching bag. Yet this compels Anastasia to take pity on him and, as she puts it, try to ‘drag him into the light’.

By the grace of God the Queen has no desire to read the novels, quite frankly I’d be troubled and self-conscious if she did. Because I have to believe there is hard truth in my friend’s rationale for the books’ popularity. Let’s be real, isn’t that what fantasy is all about anyway, the romanticized fulfillment of an unmet reality? Doesn’t Anastasia’s persistence at straightening out the unraveling of someone as deranged as Christian give hope and validation to women everywhere striving to create their own Fifty Shades? And doesn’t her eventual achievement in saddling him, even if it comes with whelp marks and anal beads, fuel those expectations?

Like the man who views pornography then wishes his partner looked and acted more like the actresses he sees, doesn’t Fifty Shades produce a level of dissatisfaction with a current relationship, whether it be sexually, materially , or emotionally, and then foster a longing for something better?

And hiding behind the defense that it’s ‘just entertainment’ doesn’t obscure the fact that Fifty Shades does have the tendency to raise these sorts of questions. The amusement and sexual zing potentially gained from reading about Anastasia’s avant-garde erotic exploits hardly makes up for the damage that comes from wondering, “why can’t he be more like Christian?”

Originally published in 2012

Convulsions of Conscience

2024-09-14T08:07:00.000-07:00

There are events which occur in life where the necessary contemplation around their true meaning is enough leave our consciences in a state of upheaval. The accounts of heroism and bravery amid the tragedy of 9/11 come immediately to my mind. The numerous actions of rescue personnel and random citizens who sacrificed their own lives to save those of complete strangers force me to ask if I have even a fraction of that courage and self sacrifice.

Then too I try and envision the victims trapped in those burning buildings as they came to grips with the hopelessness of their circumstances and the reality they faced – remain trapped or jump. With both means producing the same certain end, how did they rationalize one over the other? What went through their minds after settling on an answer? Were they horrified as the inevitable approached or did they face the end with resolve and calmness?

As I think on these things I’m left with no alternative but to ask myself ‘What would I have done?’ and then question my very character as a man when I am disappointed with the answer I get.

Over a decade later I still shutter at these thoughts, yet I believe it’s an important soul cleansing exercise. To begin with it chips away at my callous heart beaten numb by our flippant world where death and loss lead every newscast. Second, I’m driven to a new appreciation for my current well being when our land of milk and honey makes that so easy to take for granted. And third, it immediately shuts down any criticism I might level against the decisions or actions of those directly involved - my arrogance and self-righteousness whither in the shadow of these convulsions of conscience.

Late last week another tragic event had a similar effect and reminded me again of that great divide separating who I am from who I want to be. The incident involved a homeless man charged and finally arrested for purposefully pushing a fellow pedestrian off the platform on the 49th train station in New York City. This is said to be a New Yorker’s worst nightmare and I’ve been in enough of those train stations to understand why. The 58-year-old Ki Suck Han struggled by some estimates for 1-2 minutes trying to climb back off the tracks before succumbing to the onrushing train and later died at the hospital.

Death in and of itself is so recurrent in our culture it’s barely considered newsworthy anymore and this is especially so in the city that never sleeps, however Mr. Han’s death reinvigorated the discussion, in the most unpredictable of ways, of what I consider an even greater human injustice.

This flash paper was sparked from the following morning’s front page of the New York Post:

Once readers’ move beyond those shocking words, the image in the background is sufficient to take the breath away. In a world of Photoshop and special effects where reality is repeatedly called into question this image garners an altogether different reaction. Considering the corresponding story one question quickly surfaces in the minds of most “Why didn’t the photographer help the man!?”

As legitimate as that question may be, what’s just as distressing is that no other passenger seemed bothered to aid Mr. Han either – there’s no one else in the picture. At this point it would be easy to begin throwing stones questioning the humanity of everyone on that train platform – why did no one bother to help him? Only when I consider what I might have done, does my conscience led me to throw the stones to the ground.

Most of us have this false notion that we’re more gallant and altruistic than we really are. As we sit nestled in our protective cocoons, we find it easy to cast doubt on the morality of each of those passengers who failed to assist their fellow human being. We quickly question the goodness of others while failing to give full consideration to the goodness (or lack of) within our own hearts.

Where this misconception comes from, I don’t know. Maybe the intent is what really matters. Is the desire to help all that’s needed to be courageous? Or because I’ve helped a few stranded motorists’ jumpstart their cars does that mean I’m noble and brave? Unfortunately, that doesn’t get me very far when I stop to consider what my first reaction may been there on that platform.

With no afterthought would I have instinctively risked my own safety by rushing to assist regardless the personal risks? Would I have thrown myself into certain harms way to help a stranger in need? Or would I have assumed, like I usually do for someone stranded on the side of the road, that help is already on the way, and they don’t need me - or they are serial killers’ intent on capturing another victim?

The truth I am compelled to admit is that I would likely have done little more than the photographer or his fellow passengers. I’m still living in the gap of who I am and who I want to be and what honor I may possess doesn’t eclipse my fear, or the belief that I’m vastly more important than a man on the train tracks. I would have likely stood there in stunned amazement as the train bore down – then spent the rest of my life medicating my guilt by convincing myself there was nothing I could have done.

My heart goes out to the family of Mr. Sun and their tragic loss. But I can’t help in many ways feel more pity for the others in that station – those that who chose do to nothing. Only God knows what their souls must be struggling with today as they deal with their own guilt and try to persuade themselves there was little they could have done. Do they question their own humanity? Are they depressed, ashamed, or angry? And if given a second chance, would they have acted differently?

We all live in the space between who we are and who we claim to be, and not a one of us can say with any shred of honesty what we would have done that day, and because of that we must stop short of criticizing the photographer or others for living in their own gaps. So, before anyone calls into question the dignity of those who did nothing, it’s best that we search within our own hearts for how we would have acted then pray that we never have the opportunity to find out.

Originally published 9/11/2012

‘Child Visitation’ is a Four-Letter Word

2024-09-14T07:54:00.000-07:00

With all the bitterness and resentment that surrounds divorce such as alimony, co-parenting, every other weekend, and the train wreck it makes of lives in general, the notion of parental visitation is head and shoulders the most dehumanizing of all.

The mere fact that, as their father, I only get to ‘visit’ with my children is enough to make me strap TNT to my chest and walk into the nearest family court room. It’s the one piece of my divorce that I have yet to come to complete grips with.

When the Jap and I divorced in ’05 our children were 10 and 18 months old. I moved, and still live, seven miles from the home she and the Trainer live in today. Unaware of their impending living situation and ultimate marriage, I agreed to provide enough financial resources for her to stay home full time until my son was two years old. She felt, and I agreed, that at their young age stability was vitally important and the going back and forth with sleeping here one day and there the next was a tad bit much. While I could have fought for joint custody, all along I knew it would do little good and not the best thing for my kids.

Seeing a chance to keep their docket moving forward, the court system eagerly agreed with our decision. as do most family courts in Georgia. Instead of routinely offering joint physical custody to both parents, the father is relegated to non-custodial loser parent with scheduled visitation, but only if it is acceptable to the mother. And I don’t need to mention the financial incentive gained with sole custody.

All of this meant my time with the kids would consist of a few hours two nights during the week where I would bring them back to her house before bedtime, and then every other weekend, where I was picking them up on Friday afternoons and dropping them off on Sunday evenings. At that stage of life what we agreed on worked for everyone, especially me, as I traveled for business periodically and continued to fight my way through the mental and emotional fog that comes with any divorce.

But even then, with my agreement to the plan, the feeling that I just got to visit my kids was a sore subject. You visit the dentist or your Aunt Sue in Hoboken, that shouldn’t apply to your toddler children. For me that term ‘child visitation’ reeks of prejudice. To me it says:

“Yes, we know they have your DNA and look just like you, we know you were there in the delivery room and changed countless diapers; while we appreciate that you support them financially and love them unconditionally the best you’re going to get is a visit that will be put in writing and can’t be deviated from without an attorney. Now shut up, stay out of the way, and keep writing the checks!”

As the non-custodial parent, I have limited rights in the decision-making process for my kids. The ex, if she chose, could take them and move to another country and I would have to sue if I wanted to stop it. However, if I took the kids and moved there would be an APB out on me for kidnapping or worse. The custodial parent has the right to choose schools, activities, even religion, while the non-custodial has limited if any say in the matter. As far as I’m concerned that’s not parenting - it’s settling.

Though I have been spared a good number of the challenges that many non-custodial parents suffer it’s still that term ‘visitation’ which continues to haunt me. It’s like somebody’s thrown me a parental bone and I’d do good to be happy with what I’ve got. But that doesn’t sit well with me. I’m not one of those absent fathers who takes to the road as soon as the papers are signed by the judge, never to be seen or heard from again.

Why is it that far too often when a man wants to be in his kid’s life as equal as the mother that he has to fight for it? Are the cards stacked against me because I didn’t give physical birth, mothers are more important, or because so many dads before me blew it and now I’m paying for their sins?

Seven years later I’m still a non-custodial parent though my structure has changed a good deal. While I still don’t have equal time with my kids like their mother does, I’ve learned to play the hand I’ve been dealt.

Originally published in 2011

Dichotomy of the American Dad - Why Fathers Make Better Grandfathers.

2024-08-24T07:36:00.000-07:00

I had a golden childhood in several respects. But one in particular was having both sets of grand parents until I was thirty. I know of very few others who can claim speed dial to that kind of wisdom for so long.

My grandfathers were vastly different men in both personality and accomplishments. My paternal grandfather served in WWII on the USS Alvin C Cockrell, worked in a plant making speedboats, and lived a very reserved existence. My other grandfather was his polar opposite, which might explain why they weren’t very close. With a meager elementary education, fifth grade at best, he was arguably the wealthiest man on Yellow Creek Road, sought after far and wide for his hunting expertise, and quick to tell any number of hunting or horse stories. By comparison, think Jerry Clower.

Like most grandkids, I never truly appreciated their presence or perspective until they were gone. Nonetheless, I did possess just enough humility to accumulate a few nuggets of wisdom from them before I had completely convinced myself I knew everything. And for that I’ll be forever grateful.

Even approaching middle age I still idolize both of them, especially my mom’s dad who I called Gocky, as wise sages who could do no wrong; men of impeccable character, full of knowledge with the patience of Job. It makes me wonder if they were always so patriarchal.

Based on things I’ve heard my mom and aunt say, probably not.

Maybe this was discussed on a day I skipped class, but why does it seem men make better grandfathers than fathers? Why could men he dishonorably discharged from fatherhood but find a way to earn a Medal of Honor for being the above and beyond grand-dad? I’m old enough to experience this first hand. I’ve known men who completely checked out in the dad department letting mom handle the duties or chasing too many shiny objects and ending up being the subject of their kids’ therapy sessions for years. Then turn around and become the grandfather that every kid wishes they could have.

My father had very little patience with me. As a man who did everything with perfection the first time he tried, he found it difficult hold the hands of us mere mortals as we stumbled through. Though I will never really know, I can say with near certainty he wouldn’t be anywhere near as anxious with his four grandchildren. For some reason I peg him as one of those granddads they use in AARP commercials; sitting in his rocking chair with cardigan sweater (always maroon), silver cropped hair and showing his eager grandson the form for throwing a perfect slider.

By most accounts this is a universal phenomenon. Most seem emphatic that their parents are far better grandparents in almost every area. And why is that? Even when so much is riding on those few years our children are under our care and protection, why does the evidence point to us being much better grand parents?

Time - Even in the thirties and forties we believe we’ll live forever, we’re suffering the halo affect from our twenties when we knew we would never die. But by our sixties, after a few close friends have moved on for reasons that keep us up at night, we begin to feel the weight of our mortality. Suddenly roses smell sweeter, traffic isn’t so bad, and priorities realign.

Obligations – Life is tough, it gets tougher with more mouths we have to clothe, feed, keep in iPhones, and send to college. By the time we’re grandparents the hard part is over. Now we’re resting easy watching as our children pick up where we left off screwing everything up. It’d kind of like watching your kid get his wisdom teeth out, you hate the he has to go through it, but you’re more glad it isn’t you.

Freedom – As a grandparent we can send the grandkids back home whenever we want. Before I had my own kids, I said the best thing about having children is giving them back. I think the grandparents are like that. Sure, we’ll be excited to see the grandchildren as they come through the door, especially when we know they’ll be leaving through the same one fairly soon.

Perspective – Grandparents have been there, done that, and got the keychain to prove it. A grandparent’s perspective is much richer than the parent who has to deal with it in the moment. Johnny failed Algebra, has to take summer school and dad thinks he’ll be living in the basement when he’s thirty. Buy Johnny’s grandfather remembers when Johnny’s dad failed Algebra. And he turned out ok. Sometimes a longer perspective puts things in a different light.

Revenge – This could arguably be the main reason. What better way to get back at your kids for any number of misdeeds than to spoil their children completely senseless? Revenge is even sweeter when it requires a moving van every time the kids come home from grandpa’s house.

Originally published in 2012

Divorce Dilemma - The Wedding Photos

2024-08-24T07:25:00.000-07:00

There’s been only two times in my life where I felt like a rock star. Those times when everybody loves you, has all eyes on you and hangs on your every word.

The first was in the 6th grade when I won the Charlotte Elementary School Stomper Pull-Off (click the link if you need a reminder) after my mother surprised me with a silver, snub-nosed Peterbilt Stomper 4X4 that yanked its entire weight in nails, screws, and washers on a make-shift sled. On that day, obviously not being able to see me in the next row over in Mrs. Heath’s class any other time, Tammy Moneypenny finally talked to me.

The other was my wedding day.

The culmination of nine-months preparation replete with two open bars, DJ, 5-course meal, and a hundred or so of our closest friends and family was the stage for the event. The last addition to these nuptials was a lone photographer whose duty it was to get the bride and groom in as many photos as possible without earning the label paparazzi.

Little could our photographer have imagined that all of her just-one-mores, over-to-the-lefts, and scooch-in-a-littles would end up being part of the mine and her discussion a few years later.

Walk into any married couples home and you’re quick to recognize a wedding photo as the staple of the home décor strategy. From the obnoxious 28x36 photo-shopped canvas hanging over the mantle, to the mundane dollar store binder on the end table, showcasing outdated wedding dresses, blue cumberbuns and hideous brides maid attire is a cultural tradition.

But what happens to these memories should the bride and groom’s vows change from “I do” to “I don’t”?

As the Jap and I were splitting up the martial assets, when it came time to discuss the wedding albums (notice the plural) I immediately took one for the team and cheerfully traded my portion for some drinking glasses and a paper-towel rack. I was all for using the prints to start a bond-fire in the middle of the den as sacrifice, but she thought otherwise and, as far as I know, still has them all to this day.

But why would anyone want them?

Much like the engagement ring whose original purpose has vanished, wouldn’t wedding photos seem to fall in that same category? Don’t they represent a time when feelings where far different, when emotions where love and respect instead of hate and contempt? If so, then what’s the reason behind keeping them after a divorce?

There seems to be no rationale behind who gets them and who doesn’t. I know some divorces where the guy got them and others where the woman, who asked for the divorce, kept them. But either way it’s like continuing to wear your uniform from that McDonald’s job you had in high school.

And what happens if you get married again. Do they get pulled out after one too many Cabernets for a trip down memory lane? How would the new partner feel to know that the love of their life has kept memories from time past that didn’t include them? Or is it a sort of long shot bet just in case someone decides to rekindle old flames?

Does it change things if there were children? Would the kids want to keep pictures of their parents failed marriage? Are they going to put them on the end table in their apartment?

As you might have guessed, I say they get trashed or put into a garage sale, maybe you’ll see yourself on the wall of a Cracker Barrel one morning over a plate of eggs and sausage.

Originally published in 2010

A Saccharine Existence

2024-08-24T07:14:00.000-07:00

I had driven through the neighborhood countless times, it was less than a ½ mile from where we lived and made for a dreamy alternative to the busy commerce laden street that was our standard route to the grocery store, pizza parlor, or dry cleaners.

“If I could live in a house like that, I’d finally have made it!”

If I thought that once I thought it a thousand times passing by this particular home. It had a traditional feel with a wonderfully graded lot, which meant it sat slightly higher than its surrounding neighbors like Mount St. Helen among foothills. The yard was perfectly manicured with seasonal flowers and shrubbery which would have given any royal garden a run for its money. And its three-car garage simply validated my attitude that it encapsulated the pinnacle of the American dream. And much like Ralphie Parker staring at that Red Rider BB Gun in Goldblatt’s store window, I had lofty ambitions of having a dream of my own.

Little could I have imagined in just a few short years I would be granted that suburban wish. We moved into our very own dream home with a colossal front yard, massive three-car garage, and a master closet you could park a Winnebago in. With enough square footage to house a sizable Peruvian village I thought it was the diamond in my crown of achievement. From choosing the lot to deciding on double glass pane doors we were painstakingly involved in every nuance of its construction. And I still have the vivid memory of putting away the last moving box and thinking

“Ole boy, you’ve finally arrived!”

I think we all have times in our life when we’re certain that our permanent happiness and content relies solely on the acquisition of one particular this or a specific that. Whether it be a house, car, purse, Jimmy Choo shoes, or Rolex watch we are convinced that being its proud owner our lives will finally be set.

If you lived in the south in the 80’s I can almost guarantee that the sugar substitute Sweet n’ Low was somewhere in your mom’s kitchen cabinets. The belief has been, and the brand still touts, that you can get the same sweetness with none of the calories. But as research and scientific evidence went on to show one of the down sides to this sugar imposter is it causes one to become hungry much quicker than usual. The evidence concluded that instead of losing the weight hoped for its users were actually gaining instead. It seems this artificial gratification only momentarily met the need.

And just like the low calorie substitute that dream home that was sure to give me fulfillment was soon replaced by the next longing. And I’m willing to bet that the stuff you felt would finally let you achieve your own happiness is now stuck in a closet corner or has been traded or sold to help you satisfy the next fix.

The messages we hear, the commercials we see, and the culture we are in all push us to live a saccharine existence, a way of life which promises that by acquiring these artificial substitutes we will have the sense of accomplishment and validation we so desperately want. But what they conveniently leave out of the message is that, like the imitation food additive, it’s temporary and before long you are famished again. So we fill that need with more stand-ins and its killing us.

The most recent statistics show that the average US household carries almost $15,000 in credit card debt with 3.5 credit cards in their wallet. The total amount of US consumer debt is 13 times greater than it was 30 years ago! And with an on-going recession and double digit unemployment it’s anticipated people will start making ends meet through monthly payments.

This is something that amazes me. No time in recorded history has there been more research and analysis on human behavior and self-image than there is today and the studies are unanimous on one vital point – stuff doesn’t make you happy. And everyone knows this yet why is it that we still rely on it for our self worth even when we know it doesn’t work? Last I checked that’s a pretty good definition of insanity.

What’s even more frightening is that we don’t seem to care and the next generation is following in our well-worn footsteps. Research indicates that even in the our economic crisis 75% of teens are spending more than they did the previous year and they are blowing it on tangibles like the latest $200 smart-phone so they can put it in the pocket of their $300 jeans that will go perfectly with their $150 shoes, and why? Because they saw some over priced under talented celebrity pimp it on their Facebook, Twitter page, or latest video?

And why is it we are then surprised when those blue jeans are found under their bed because as they’re out of style now because they’ve been replaced by ones with a different label? Where does that path lead?

Within nine months of moving into THE HOUSE I found myself looking at a second home on the beach, once again claiming

“If I could have one of these, I’d have finally made it”

By only the grace of God, good sense won over and I decided I’d still be fine without a place on the beach. Which was a blessing as less than a year after that house which I once thought would make me whole was sold and moved into by someone else and I was left to pick up the pieces of a life that fell apart by divorce.

It seems while saccharine isn’t good for the body it isn’t too good for the soul either.

Originally published in 2011

Would You Let You Date Your Son?

2024-08-18T07:42:00.000-07:00

Earlier this year I wrote article entitled, Would you let you date your daughter? It turned out to be one of those proverbially stakes in the ground for any father to a daughter. The title of the piece put forward a simple but powerful concept, would my actions and behaviors as a man, husband, and father still be as acceptable if it was my daughter’s boyfriend, fiancé, or spouse who was doing them instead of me? When looked at through the lens of this question it puts an entirely different spin on how fathers should perceive their conduct and live their lives.

As the dad to a 10-year-old girl I am growing more and more anxious about the boys she will eventually encounter and the man she will one day fall in love with and hopefully marry. I wonder about the kind of person he will be, what character and standards will he have, and how will he view her as a woman and possible mother. I also question the example I am setting for her right now. How are the behaviors she sees in me influencing the way she will come to view men, and how will those experiences with her father shape how she gauges the worthiness of boyfriends and a husband?

Because this is another truth I have come to wholeheartedly believe in, the type of man she observes me being today will directly influence the kind of man she looks for tomorrow. As her father I am helping establish her future expectations about men and shaping her basic assumptions on what to expect from them - by her simply watching me. The way I treat her and other women can potentially become her norm for all men. If a girls’ father is critical of the women in his life why would she not expect, and accept, other men to be critical of her? If a single father exposes his daughter to one strange woman after another he shouldn’t be surprised when she seems only drawn to men who are emotionally unavailable and moves from one dead relationship to the next.

As fathers we must remember that our actions set the bar for every future man who will compete for our daughter’s attention, what she sees in us can ultimately set that bar high - or remove it entirely.

But if we stop to think for a moment, is this dynamic no less powerful between a mother and her son?

There’s no doubt that a boy’s principal ideas about women are rooted directly in the behavior he sees from his mother. For the first eighteen years of life, my mother represented for me almost the totality of womanhood. As I entered college anything I claimed to know about the opposite sex I learned from watching my mom, and as I got older it was those same characteristics that served as the baseline by which I judged all other women.

Any mother that doesn’t understand this association had better begin paying attention; because once that fundamental principle is grasped the real issue then becomes how will your behaviors influence where and how he sets his threshold Will he use what he’s witnessed in his mom as the benchmark or will he view the traits of his mother as something to be entirely avoided?

If a boy witnesses his mother medicating her way through life with bottles of Merlot and Lexapro why would he anticipate anything less from a future partner? If she is a cold and unaffectionate wife to his father how can he be blamed if he’s just as indifferent and standoffish as an adult? What message about relationships and marriage does a mom send her son when she openly flaunts her disrespect and condemnation of his father? Mothers must understand that they too set the target for those future women in her son’s life to shoot for.

Many women reading this may well scoff at the idea that their behavior, in any way, could influence the type of woman their sons may eventually choose. But I would ask, are you prepared to make that bet? Are you willing to let his first crush, that first heartbreak, or a divorce be what teaches him about true womanhood, all the while ignoring the fact that his most persuasive and powerful instructor was with him all along?

As a man and son, the influence a mother has on her boy’s life will be tremendous and I can’t think of any greater tribute that son could pay her than the hope that he will one day find the woman of his dreams who is just like his mother.

Originally published in 2013

Would You Let You Date Your Daughter?

2024-08-18T07:33:00.000-07:00

I wasn’t always such a nice guy. There was a season of my life where I would lie and manipulate to get what I wanted. I was calculating and exact; like a master of deception I knew what to do, what to say, and how to say it. I would promise to call – and wouldn’t. I said I really cared - but I didn’t. I’d act excited the next morning – but I wasn’t. Shamefully women represented for me a means to an end and as soon as the mission was complete, the victory achieved, and the thrill gone – so where they.

I wish I could admit that this behavior happened during a time when games and dishonor could be blamed on youthful self-centeredness – but that too would be a lie. The fact of the matter, this narcissism occurred not so long ago when I knew better and had a very important reason to act so – I was a father to a daughter.

As I think back at my actions in those days I am appalled at the hypocrisy. Here I was, this father to a beautiful little girl, engaging in a lifestyle that I would have been mortified for her to discover. Wasn’t I was supposed to be living in a way that showed her what real manhood was? Wouldn’t she be getting her queues on how boys should treat her from the way I treated women? If that was so, the rate I was going she’d be pregnant or on a stripper pole by her 19th birthday.

The first few years following the divorce I was easily able to separate fatherhood from singlehood. Because my children were far too young to ever grasp concepts like character and decency I could live one way while they weren’t looking and live another when they were. I hid my disgrace behind their naivety and naptimes. But as they got older and our communication evolved from monologue to dialogue, that little voice we all have started getting louder. Now that we were having discussions around topics that would be the foundation for how they would come to view life, no longer would my conscience allow me get away with living a double standard.

If there is a litmus test or a barometer for how well fathers are doing it’s the question:

“Would I let me date my daughter?”

When a man stops to think how he responds to that question it leaves no room for excuses and justifications. We can’t wiggle out of it, use the worn out excuse “you don’t understand”, or sweep it under the rug. All we have to do is replace ourselves and our behaviors and how we see things with that kid who keeps texting and calling. All the sudden those private corners of our life we don’t show anyone but tell ourselves “they’re no big deal!” become really big deals!

Would you let that boy treat her the way you treat your wife?
Would you let him date her if he was addicted to pornography?
Would you bless their relationship if he had a gambling habit? Stole from his company? Took drugs?
Would you let him hang around if he did what you do when no one’s looking?

Far too many parents, moms included, view life on a case-by-case basis? We allow way too much subjectivity and leave more open to interpretation than we should. It seems almost every wrong deed we perform can be argued away with circumstance. But when it comes to our children, especially a father and his daughter, we have no tolerance for circumstances, understanding, or forgiveness Yet we have an explanation for that affair on our wives and why we belittle, demean, and abuse them while we wouldn’t, and shouldn’t accept that behavior when its levied against our little girls.

We hid our disgrace behind our arrogance

But as men and fathers we can’t live like that. We can’t disrespect and dishonor our wives but expect him to treat her like a princess. We have a responsibility, in fact a duty, to live in such a way that our daughters will know which boys to get involved with and which to stay away from. Through our actions, how we talk to her mother, how we treat her grandparents, what kind of father we are to her brothers and sisters, and how we treat the people around us she will learn to respect others, us, and most importantly herself. And in my case, by watching how I live she will learn to distinguish sincere interest and appreciation in a boy from someone who only sees her as a means.

The way I see it, if every daughter wants to marry someone like her daddy, from now on I plan to live the life of someone I’d want her to.

Originally published in 2013

You Can't Make Him Be A Daddy

2024-08-18T07:23:00.000-07:00

I’ve held senior leadership positions within corporate America for over a decade. I’ve led and worked through countless others to get projects completed or goals achieved and from all of the experience I’ve learned one essential truth regarding people – I can’t make anyone do anything they don’t want to do. I don’t believe I can give a group of associates a pep talk that will suddenly cause them to run through brick walls, nor do I buy into popular notions of how I can directly ‘motivate’ anyone.

From my many failures I’ve come to realize it doesn’t matter how much I beg, bribe, plead, or prod, unless that person decides to act – on his or her own – I can’t change the mind. But when I stop to think about it why would I want to? If I must coerce and cajole another person to do a job how much passion and commitment will there be and how good of a job will they do?

Down the street from the Queen lives an eleven-year-old girl. On the surface she looks the part of any classic American family except for one rarely talked about difference. The girl’s father, her biological one, isn’t part of her life. He isn’t dead or in jai and hasn’t been shipped overseas with the military. The fact is he’s in the same city as her, same area code actually; he’s just made the decision that being in his daughter’s life isn’t a priority. Getting remarried several years ago and having children with his new wife, this second family has taken all of his time and attention. He doesn’t celebrate holidays or birthdays with his daughter opting instead for the generic gift. The occasional visit consists of last minute meetings at the mall.

How their relationship got to this and what caused the parents divorce is uncertain but that is beyond the point. But through her father’s actions this girl will likely struggle with feelings of inadequacy, self-consciousness, and unworthiness for years to come. He has relegated her to second-class and it’s impossible to believe that his abandonment won’t cause her lasting damage.

Yet amidst all of this hurt and anguish there is a happy ending to the story. Several years ago the girl’s mother married a man who has freely accepted the role of daddy the girl’s biological father rejected. When he didn’t have to, he did what needed to be done. It’s proof yet again that fatherhood is anything but fluid donation.

Late last year I wrote what remains my most vitriolic post. A Manifesto On Deadbeat Dads was a 1000 word essay of venom attacking those fathers who decide without provocation to up and walk away from their children’s lives when a relationship is over. Even after months of reflection I remain steadfast in my contempt for these individuals. The comments and emails received were often painful to read, and while the responses were unique each story seemed to contain a similar thread. Time and again these mom’s desperately endeavored to get the father - during and after the relationship - to be a daddy to his kids only to be left frustrated and embarrassed.

As I read their reactions I couldn’t help but remember that lesson I learned from corporate America.

I’ve been asked many times on what to do about the father who doesn’t want to be a part of his kids’ lives, the one who seems to show no interest in his kids or only when the timing suits. The response I give has always been the same ‘You can’t make him be daddy’. While this may sound cold and sterile I’m convinced of its truthfulness. Too often think what we forget is that fatherhood is effortless but being a daddy takes commitment.

One needs to look no further than the Queen’s neighbor as a model for this principle. Regardless of how much the daughter and mother may want her biological father to be part of her life no amount of guilt, embarrassment, or ridicule will force him to change his mind no matter his responsibility. If he is a daddy only by force, then he doesn’t deserve to be a daddy at all. What type of impact can this man have on his daughter if he is only doing it to shut everyone up? But along those lines the stepfather demonstrates again that biological similarity has no bearing on how good of a dad someone will be. Fatherhood isn’t about blood.

But while I empathize with these mothers and commend them for their noble intentions I can’t help but think that they are doing themselves and their children a disservice. Endeavoring to threaten, coax, or sweet talk a father into being a daddy - when he doesn’t want to be - is spirit crushing and pointless for everyone. Much like trying to start a car with a dead battery, we end up exasperated and beating our head into the steering wheel and are suddenly stressed and in a bad mood. My recommendation has always been to simply separate her and her kids from the situation and discontinue any attempts to persuade the father to assume his responsibilities. And when it comes to telling the children, sensitive honesty is always the best policy.

Instead, my encouragement for them is to find other men, much like this girl’s stepfather, who are willing to step up and assume the masculine role in the child’s life, whether that be a grand father, uncle, cousin, or some other positive male role model in a local church or the community.

What’s most important is the attention and time, it isn’t necessary for this man to become the child’s father only their hero with a will to mentor and guide showing them life from their eyes. There can be no arguing that children need positive male influences and it doesn’t need to be someone with the same last name, only a man willing to step up and be daddy.

Originally published in 2012

A Manifesto On Deadbeat Dads

2024-08-18T07:11:00.000-07:00

Parenting isn’t easy. Anyone saying otherwise has never been one - or at least a good one. When I became divorced in ’05 my children were 10 and 18 months old –young by any standard. I can still remember the trepidation that first weekend alone with them. Would I be able to do this on my own?

That first year was frequently agonizing and consistently chaotic. It’s sad to say but early on I regularly dreaded those Friday afternoons and Sunday night couldn’t get here fast enough. This single parenting thing wasn’t something I signed up for and without a local support network I was doing it on my own. The simple act of going out to eat, the three of us, was such a production with diaper bags, strollers and bottles it became grueling at best.

There were lots of times when I wanted nothing more than to unload them both, head south, and never look back. My entire life had been turned upside down and not only was it taxing it was seriously cramping my re-emerging social life. Who in their right mind would date a single dad divorced less than a year plus two toddlers in tow?

There’s been seven years of water under that bridge since those first days and I now look back on these struggles with a sense gratitude. I’m thankful my kids were too young to remember all my mistakes and I’m still amazed to have even survived with my sanity. Those close to me at the time readily admitted the whole thing was a tragic situation. Today I wear those years like a badge of honor because I know without them, I’d not be who I am now. I surely wouldn’t have the connection my kids and share I and I wouldn’t have the experiences to frame my decisions. Lastly, and arguably most importantly to me, I rest confident in the fact that the majority of men would have bailed the first chance possible.

This post was prompted by a single mom blogger’s recent article about the disappearance of her ex-husband from his responsibilities and his children. It’s a heartbreaking read indicative of the current state of so many single fathers. She ends with these words:

“So like that, with the plague of child support haunting him, he's gone. And as I'm finishing up this post, I have Claire sleeping next to me after crying herself to sleep, asking why he can't come back and be with us. And I quietly ask myself, "How does he deserve these tears?"

With every ounce of composure I could muster I responded:

“Let me give you my first reaction after I finished this post "I want to find this man and personally beat the shit out of him". I now understand where your response came from to my post about single dads. As much as I push for father custody, its guys like this that make me consider murder for hire.

I'm going to say this..."he's a loser". Not only is he not a man but he isn't worthy of the designation of being in the same conversation as a daddy figure.”

As hard as I try to put myself in other people’s shoes I just don’t have it in me to understand how a boy (he isn’t worthy of man) can so blatantly walk out of his children’s lives. I can think of no other human act more selfish nor is there a solitary excuse that justifies. This is made even more infuriating for me because I’ve been there; I’m familiar with the many options that could pull a single father away from his children but in the final analysis there is nothing that condones leaving. I don’t care if…

there are no good jobs where you are.
that big promotion is waiting on the west coast.
it’s the best move for your future.
she’s the love of your life.
you are depressed, lonely, and think you need your mommy.
you’re scared you can’t be a single dad.

You may fabricate any reason you like but the fact remains if you walk out on your kids you’re a disgrace to men everywhere and deserve little more than a rope and a tree. Frankly the term ‘deadbeat’ isn’t a strong enough reference and jail isn’t a sufficient enough punishment. An absent dad is a child molester…you’ve raped your children of a healthy childhood because you decided comfort and self-interest were more important than sacrifice and parental responsibilities.

It’s because of your dishonorable behavior that little girls grow up with a distorted view of boys and ultimately men. Because of fathers with your lack of character there is now a world of women searching for love and affection in unhealthy and destructive ways. Because you weren’t there to show your son what true manhood should look like I now must prepare my daughter to be skeptical of all men. And worst of all because you felt being a single dad was too much work there’s now an abyss in your child’s soul and you’ve forced them to believe that you’re absence is somehow their fault.

It’s because of your irresponsibility that I have to fight for extra time with my kids. On account of derelicts like you who don’t take any form of responsibility, court systems automatically award custody to the mother while I’m downgraded to ‘visitation’.

Let me ask you a question, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!?!?

You think that you can just walk out on your duties without consequences? You think that you can simply create a whole new life for yourself while those you left behind fend for themselves and without ramifications? You might be able to leave, but you can’t out run your conscience. When you lay your pathetic head on the pillow at night you know what you’ve done and you know what kind of person you really are.

And ladies how could you associate yourself with someone like this? If you for one second know that the man you’re with has walked out on his children and you continue to stay with him – you’re not a shade better than he is! Because by your acceptance he can rest easier with his behavior and he is able to hide his shame and disgrace behind your love and affection.

I don’t have an easy answer that will stop men from walking out on their kids. But in a society that regards abusers of mistreated animals with more disdain than parents of mistreated children the first place to start is with us. Michael Vick got almost two years in prison while these losers freely roam the streets every day. I don’t care if you meet your financial responsibilities, if you’re an absent dad you’re a deadbeat dad.

Originally published in 2011

Hard Talks - Your Son, Porn, and Cupcakes

2024-08-18T06:44:00.000-07:00

It’s kept me awake more nights than one, and for a good reason. Research suggests the average age boys are introduced to pornography is eleven, as in tuck-me-into-bed-daddy eleven. ‘Average’ also points to the shocking reality that many are coming across porn at even younger ages. My fears are further heightened due to my own documented struggles. I’ve been where the porn path leads; it’s not a beautiful place.

There’s no manual on how best to discuss this with our sons. And depending on where you look there is an outright contradiction if such conversations are even necessary. Many absurdly claim that porn is a healthy way for young boys to discover and grow in their sexuality. Furthermore, those same ‘experts’ believe that to criticize or condemn pornography only promotes future sexual repression in adulthood. That to throw a negative spin on porn only results in harmful guilt and shame. Yet given our overall cultural addiction to sex, and the documented effects persistent porn use is having on young men, a bit of repression, guilt, and shame would be welcomed.

The fact is our children, and particularly our sons, will be assaulted by sexual images in one form or another for the rest of their lives, it’s only a matter of when it starts. So, unless parents in general and fathers, in particular, prepare them early for the ensuing onslaught, our boys can suffer irreparable harm.

To ignore the topic is madness.

I started thinking about how best to go about this, and not without ample dread, as my son approached middle school. I knew his mother’s elementary graduation gift would be a cell phone, and I had read the research that a phone typically is the flash paper igniting all sorts of harmful behaviors, most notably pornography. I also knew, from being a kid myself, that timing about this uncomfortable topic would be critical. Begin the conversation too early, and I lose him out of awkwardness and ignorance, wait too late, and I lose him out of awkwardness and irritation.

In all my looking I have not found a single resource that truly aids parents in getting this right. But like so many other things much depends on the kid, the parent, and the family environment. That leaves it up to us to gauge the situation as best we can and not delay when the timing feels right. Gut and luck have most to do with it. But even considering all the variables, my experience with a twelve-year-old son has shown me there are things parents can do to make this hard conversation somewhat easier, for both you and him.

Here’s what I’ve learned:

It’s not one and done. Conversations about sex and especially porn must be ongoing. Having one talk then hoping for the best gets us nowhere except to peek his curiosity and lead him to search out what the hubbub is about actively.
It’s a job for dads. Not to shortchange mothers, but as I will explain later, this is a conversation to be led by fathers. Porn addiction remains predominately a male phenomenon, and a dad can bring gravity and clarity to the topic because of their shared masculinity. A father can relate where mothers are biologically incapable. Besides most boys can’t even say ‘sex’ and ‘mom’ in the same sentence.
Begin younger than you think. Most ‘professionals’ will say I started too young. Best I can remember, I had that first talk with him and his sister when he was eight or nine, and she would have been ten. It was just the basics of what pornography is – ‘naked pictures or videos of people.’ I used his sister’s ‘Cupcake Class’ as a jumping off point (this is the name her school used for girl's sex education class). The conversation developed as I ask questions about what she had learned. I attempted to drive the discussion forward without getting too graphic.
Leverage your authority. While there may not be a ‘right’ age, I do know this, the job is made much easier when we can squash the ickiness early. We can do that by leveraging our natural authoritarian roles while we have the time. Here’s what I mean. At eight or nine we can use the sheer force of being ‘dad ‘to get them to more carefully listen and without as much of the awkwardness, on either’s part. Try to have that talk for the first time at thirteen or fourteen and the awkwardness will shut down his attention and all he’ll want to do is look for the nearest exit.
Share your story. I’m not there yet, but I know it’s coming. Perhaps the best way we can educate our sons about the dangers of porn is using our own stories. A time is coming when I’ll share with him my addiction struggles, where that led, and the results that followed. This is not something I’m looking forward to, but in my mind, I can’t think of a better defense strategy. This is why dads owning this job is so helpful. A dad’s personal story about porn use - because most dads have one - will carry greater credibility than a mother’s, who likely has never had those challenges. It’s far more impactful than simply warning ‘don’t look at it.’

But here’s the sad reality, it could still turn out to be for nothing. I may well go through all of the discomfort, embarrassment, and still have no positive impact. My son could well end up like countless other boys whose outlook on sex and women has been distorted through years of pornography use.

But I’m encouraged by some initial signs. I’m convinced that because I started these conversations with him at an early age, my son suffers no shame or embarrassment in asking me questions about anything having to do with sex or porn. If he doesn’t understand a word and its context, he’ll ask. He will quickly share what he’s heard from his friends, what he is confused about, and will speak with me immediately should something inappropriate come across his screen. I’m hopeful, but not naïve. That all could change as well.

All I can do for now is support him when he comes to me and speak truth into his life as long as he’ll allow me. Reinforce the dangers of porn, keep a close watch on who he spends time with, and be observant to his actions and behaviors. Lastly, I must pray. Pray for his wellbeing; pray for his purity, and pray that all these hard conversations will somehow keep him off dangerous paths.