Breaking the Pattern: How Healing My Father Wound Set Me Free
Recently, I had a heartfelt conversation with a friend about our relationships with our fathers. Both of our fathers have passed, and as we shared memories, we recognized how deeply their lives — and their struggles shaped the paths we’ve walked as women. My father never fit the traditional mold of his generation: the expectation to become a successful professional and provide comfortably for his family. Instead, he tried to live up to the dreams others had for him, first his mother, then my mother — becoming an optometrist because it was “the respectable thing.” He practiced on the East Coast until I was three, then moved with us to California to be near my grandparents. He tried to pass the optometry board again in California but never did. His heart wasn’t in it. He became an optician instead, a choice that never satisfied my mother. She stressed constantly about money, criticized him for not being more successful, and fought with him over who was carrying the weight of the family. ...