The Day I Stopped Expecting My Father to Love Me

I was a child who had just started to walk, sitting next to my grandfather, the king, during his village councils, when I learned what a father's love should look like.

Every week, he let me sit beside him while he made important decisions for our village. When I came to visit, he'd celebrate by giving me chickens, goats, sometimes even pigs. I felt like a princess. I felt loved. I felt like I mattered.

So when I thought about my own father, I imagined he'd be just like that.

The Dream That Broke

I barely saw my dad growing up. Just quick visits here and there. And in my head, I created this perfect picture of what he'd be like if I could just spend more time with him.

When I finally moved in with him, everything fell apart.

My father was nothing like my grandfather. He never celebrated me or made me feel special. I realized something difficult: it's possible to love someone and also feel anger toward them. Sometimes I loved him, and other times I couldn't stand being around him.

I spent years stuck in this cycle. Loving him, then hating him. Comparing him to my grandfather. Getting disappointed over and over again. Every time he let me down, I felt betrayed. Every time he didn't act the way I wanted, I got angrier.

What Finally Changed Everything

Here's what saved me: The most important lesson I learned is that people can only love you the way they know how, and expecting more brings only pain.

My father couldn't be my grandfather. He was dealing with his own problems that I couldn't see. He was carrying pain I knew nothing about. And there I was, angry that he wouldn't love me the exact way I wanted.

So I made a hard choice. I stopped expecting anything from him. No expectations for his time. No expectations for his love. No expectations for anything.

I just decided to be thankful that he gave me life. That's it.

And everything changed.

I became happier. Not because he changed, he didn't. I was happier because I stopped trying to force him to be someone he wasn't. I finally accepted him exactly as he was.

What I Learned Too Late

My dad died ten years ago today. He would've been 59.

After he died, I learned things I never knew. While I was busy fighting with him and wishing he was better, he was going through hell. He was suffering in silence. He was protecting me from problems I didn't even know existed.

The whole time I was angry at him, he was already struggling.

Now he's gone. He won't be at my wedding. He'll never meet his future grandchildren. And I'm left with memories of arguments instead of good times. I wasted the little time we had fighting, instead of just enjoying being together.

We All Do This

How many of us are doing this right now?

Getting mad at people we love because they're not good enough. Angry because they don't love us the way we want. Punishing them for not being what we expected.

We keep wanting more and more, until suddenly they're gone. Then we finally realize that the little bit of love they gave us was actually everything.

Try This

Think of the family member you fight with the most. The one who frustrates you. The one who disappoints you.

Spend one day with them with zero expectations.

Don't expect them to say the right things. Don't expect them to show up perfectly. Don't expect them to love you your way.

Just be with them. Accept whatever they give you, even if it's small. Even if it's not perfect.

Because here's the truth: you both won't live forever. One day, one of you will be gone.

And when that day comes, you won't remember all the ways they failed you.

You'll only remember that you had time together. And you'll ask yourself if you wasted it or not.

Today, on what would've been my father's 59th birthday, I choose to remember the imperfect love he gave me instead of crying about the perfect love I wanted. It's the only way to move forward.

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