Good dads stay - the words I regret writing

​Several years ago, I wrote an article called “Good Dads Stay.” I’m not sure I regret writing any three words more than those three words: Good. Dads. Stay.

They are the most judgmental words I’ve ever written. They are also words that trapped me inside a definition of good that wasn’t always good. Not good to me. Not good to the people around me.

I spent a lot of years working with “at-risk” youth. A common denominator with these kids was the absence of a father in the home. At some point, in my mind, I turned that common denominator into finger-pointing and blame. I turned it into the sole source of all the pain I saw in those kids.

Since then, I’ve learned a lot about the role of trauma in kids’ lives. I’ve sat and listened to adults who’ve experienced it. The stories they tell – sure, sometimes it’s about a dad that didn’t stay – but more often than not, their hurt is much deeper than that. Their hurt started long before they saw their dad as an exit sign in their lives.

I also learned that sometimes that exit helped a lot more than it hurt.

I say all this because I recently became a dad who didn’t stay. But just so you know, like I know now, not all dads exit because they are looking for a way out. Some leave because they are scared to death they will never find a way in. Some dads get so busy clinging to a definition they created for the word good that they lose sight of how to create good in their kids’ hearts and minds and souls.

Years ago, when I became serious about writing, I read as many books as I could about grammar and sentence structure and punctuation. I read about what goes at the beginning and in the middle and at the end of a great story or essay or article. I wanted to be the perfect writer, so I went about memorizing as many of the writing rules as I could.

Then one day I woke up and I hated writing. I’d gotten so busy following someone else’s ideals about good writing that I no longer had any idea what good there was in being a writer at all. I had to toss aside all the ideals in my mind and thoroughly explore my heart to rediscover my love for writing.

There are a lot of historical and cultural and biblical ideals about marriage and parenting. To the people who have used them as a foundation to have mutually loving connections with your spouses and kids, I have nothing but admiration and respect for you. With those ideals, though, I can only hope you don’t make the mistake I made – of judging someone else as good or bad based on those ideals.

Because today I have to say I’m sorry to all the dads who didn’t stay and then had to read my words: good dads stay. I’m sorry you had to read my implication or accusation that the minute you were on the other side of that door, you became a bad dad. I am truly sorry for those words. Not because I’m running from hypocrisy – in fact writing this is my way to stop running from that hypocrisy - but because I left - and I am a good dad.

I left because being a good dad is far more complex than stay or leave. I left because you don’t lose the chance to be a good dad the day you realize you’re not a good husband. I left because you can do a lot of real damage to your chance of being a good dad while fearing what people will ultimately think of you as a husband. What they’ll think of you as a person.

Some of you may be wondering why I’m sharing this with you. It’s simple. I’ve openly shared myself with you for a long time. I’ve always tried to be real with you, but while sometimes skirting around the edges of the truth in my life. A dear friend told me not long ago, “there’s a heaviness you bring even in your attempts at joy.” I think that heaviness is found in the skirting.

Ultimately, my journey is absolutely toward truth. I long for nothing more. I strongly believe that’s where I’ll find my best me, and more importantly, where I’ll find my boys’ best dad.

I know some people will read this and want to know the “real” story. The movie version. Because we all love the movies. All I will say is that’s not a story you can know – because you weren’t a character in that movie. Because of that, you’re left to guess, and I caution you against guessing. Guessing always leaves you in one of two places: dead wrong or wrongly judging.

I'd ask you instead to pray for my family. Think of us and all families that struggle behind the scenes. Because there are struggles.

I will tell you this. My boys do have a good dad, but they have a better mom. If I had to hand pick a mom for my boys, it would be the one they have – over and over. But sometimes good mom and good dad doesn’t equal the grander ideals a lot of people want to read into that. Sometimes one can do more harm than good trying to live up to those ideals.

In the end, I’ve become one of those dads I pointed fingers at. Those dads who didn't stay. But one thing I haven’t become as a result of that - is a bad dad. And like many of those dads who left – I’m committed to making sure that never happens.