The Day I Started Seeing Myself

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Today I learned a lot about myself. Not by solving anything. Not by pushing through. But by finally sitting still long enough to hear the truth I’ve been avoiding:

I’m exhausted — spiritually, emotionally, physically.

And maybe that’s not because I’ve done too little, but because I’ve carried too much. For too long. Alone.

I’ve come to realize that I don’t give myself credit — not for how far I’ve come, not for the father I am, not for the way I hold it all together. My parents set the bar so low emotionally that I don’t even feel proud when I do better. It’s like I unconsciously replaced “better than them” with “I must be perfect,” and that’s left me always feeling like I’m failing.

But today, something shifted.
My son broke a curtain rail.
Then he knocked over a glass of water near the electrics.
And I felt frustrated.
But I didn’t explode.
I didn’t shut down.
I stayed.

And even though part of me wanted to disconnect, I explained how I felt. I let him see me — not as a perfect parent, but as a human. I didn’t abandon him. I didn’t abandon myself. And in that moment, I realized something:

I’m a good enough father.

I have qualities I would have killed for in a father. I listen. I explain. I take space for myself, and I invite my son into that space with honesty. I give him what I never had.

Later, when I noticed myself overeating cake and my body battery dropping to 24, I almost spiraled. But then I realized: I wasn’t failing. My body was simply showing me that today, it felt safe enough to let things rise. The emotional weight I’ve been carrying for years finally had room to breathe.

Maybe this was the right time to finally express my authentic self to my son.
Maybe I’m learning to listen to what my body wants.
Maybe — for the first time — I’m being truly respectful to myself.

And maybe that’s enough.