mynamesearn

We can’t choose our fathers… but we can choose how we let them shape us. I heard this line from some cringe Netflix series called Rookie. I think everyone knows that show. Honestly, it’s not even a show I’d normally watch, but when I heard that line I had to pause because it hit me. Sometimes it’s the cringe stuff that sneaks up and tells you the truth.

If you’ve been reading what I write, you already know I hate my dad a little bit or maybe not a little but very much hate him. I think he’s selfish, stubborn, and not someone I’d ever want to be friends with if he weren’t my dad. But even though I hate him, I can also understand parts of him. Not all the time, but sometimes. He is who he is for a reason. That doesn’t excuse the shit he did, but it explains some of it.

He did so many bad things that I honestly don’t even remember them all now. Maybe that’s trauma brain, maybe that’s me choosing to forget, or maybe it’s just that the list is so long it blurs together. But when I heard that line in the show, I thought: yeah, this is exactly how I feel. Because even though I hate my dad so much, he also made me who I am today. That’s the contradiction I live with.

I love movies because of him. When I was a kid, renting DVDs was our thing. Walking into the shop, picking out a stack of movies that was like magic to me. I grew up with that ritual, and now movies are one of my deepest loves. But of course with my dad, it’s never simple. He wouldn’t pay for the rentals, and then eventually we got banned from the DVD shop. Like… who even does that? For what reason? Honestly, I think he just forgot, and the debt piled up and piled up until it was ridiculous.

That’s my dad in a nutshell: he gave me this gift of loving movies, and at the same time, he couldn’t even be responsible enough to keep that gift alive. I love that he sparked my love for films, but I hate the way he turned it messy.

And don’t get me started on his anger. He gets mad at everything. Like the smallest thing. And I hated being around that energy. I could be having the best day, full sunshine vibes, and then boom he’d flip and ruin it. Growing up with that kind of unpredictability shapes you. For me, I think it made me into the chillest person ever, because I can’t stand serious, negative, heavy people. I grew up drowning in that, so now I crave lightness.

For a long time, I was terrified of becoming like him. Like it was my worst fear. But eventually, I had to accept that he’s already part of me. He literally made me. Of course there are pieces of him inside me. Even my mom tells me I remind her of him sometimes like how clumsy we both are. I definitely inherited that. That’s the part of him I can’t escape.

But the difference is that when I spill something or mess up, I just laugh at myself. My dad’s first instinct is to get mad, to blame someone, to project anger everywhere. That’s where I choose differently. That’s why I say we can’t choose our fathers, but we can choose how they shape us. I’ll always carry parts of him, but I get to decide which parts I amplify.

And maybe if he wasn’t who he is, I might not be who I am either. Maybe I would not be this funny, crazy, caring person if I did not grow up dealing with him. And for that, I might even have to thank him. He made me so mad sometimes, but what better way to learn patience than with your dad who you hate so much, right?

And honestly, I don’t think my dad is some evil monster. I’ve seen good in him too. He’s complicated, like everyone. And maybe some of that goodness is in me as well. I want to believe that. I want to believe that I am him but the better version. Not his anger, not his selfishness, not his carelessness. But his curiosity, his clumsiness, his spark.

So I don’t need to be scared that I’ll “end up like my dad.” Because in some ways, I already am. And that’s okay. We’re already part of each other. There’s no way out of that. But it shaped me into this strong, outspoken, independent woman, because I had to deal with men like him since I was young. That’s where my fire comes from. That’s where my patience comes from too. And maybe even my stubbornness.

I guess what I’m really saying is: your parents will always shape you. They’re inside you whether you like it or not. But they don’t get to decide who you become. You do. You can take the good, throw out the bad, remix the whole thing into your own version.

So yeah, that’s what I’ve been thinking about lately. I hope you enjoy your day today. And don’t forget: your parents don’t define you. You get to choose who you want to be.