The saying goes that ‘it’s easy to make a baby, but harder to be a father’ and, like most sayings, there is an element of truth to it. Like an embryo implants in a uterus, so does the idea of being a father: the possibility, once confirmed, must gestate inside the body of the individual who is to undertake such a journey. I think that the idea of becoming a father should be nurtured by subtle and overt acts of preparation that are practical, emotional and spiritual. Emotional preparation, in my mind, should acknowledge that fatherhood will challenge an individual in their ability to give, unreservedly, to another. The latter, spiritual preparation arises in the sense of opening oneself up to the vulnerability of the unknown, and what it can show.

I say this not as a father but as someone who has been fathered. Growing up, my father was a fierce man who instilled a degree of discipline and studiousness in my brother and me. As a child there was nothing as scary as upsetting him and being on the tail end of boiling swear words that were too hot for us to repeat. But, on the other side of this, was a man with an infectious giggle, a man we’d kiss goodnight and someone who’d buy us chocolate on his way home from work (much to the detriment of our supper). Here was a man who sat and helped us read, someone who waited (sometimes past midnight) outside malls while his sons hung out with their friends at the movies. Inside this broad-shouldered individual was a man with a volcanic temper and the ability to create islands, all around him, where his sons could play, learn, and feel safe.

These islands were not always safe for me as a queer boy. When I came out, I feared my sexuality would subsume all the oases my parents had built for me. The day after coming out, my father sat me down and tried to put his feelings into words. As I watched him suck his bottom lip for comfort, I witnessed a man who was reaching, across decades of gendered indoctrination, to love me. We both broke down crying by the end of that conversation. It was no one’s fault, I had told him, this was not a flaw in his parenting. This was, as I came to understand, a profound gift to live in the world at a different angle.

Fatherhood is all about angles. A father tries to angle his children in the world so they can live fulfilling lives. But children enter the world at their own angles, coming with their own lessons to teach their fathers about who they are and want to be. Being a father is to be both teacher and student, both potted soil and pruned leaf. My father was able to learn from me about a vastly different human experience to his own and that, I believe, has enriched him. I am still learning from him about the balance of grit and warmth it takes to show up for the ones you love and be transformed by that act.

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This was one of the highly commended entries in the My Father essay writing competition. Click here to read other excellent essays from the competition.