My Father’s Shadow

Sometimes I worry myself that if I ever become famous, the spotlight would be mixed up between me and my dad because our names are the same. A movie deal would accidentally be sent to his publicist rather than mine and now we’re on the phone trying to clear up the confusion. His presence is always warm and inviting, never without love. The same way you’d gravitate towards a known friend at a party full of strangers is the same way in which people gravitate toward my father. It’s this same presence though that has always led me to feel beneath him. I can recognize the love and the thoughtfulness that I bring to relationships, but for the longest time it felt second place to how he would express it. I wanted to imitate him badly, but how was I gonna do that when my imitation was of a man I view as bigger than life itself?

The emergence of this shadow wasn’t cast really until I got to college. I can attest that my dad is the main reason why I am the way I am. My library being full of Sade is because of him putting me on during road trips as a kid (later I would get her tatted on my skin). Witnessing his passion for cooking made way for me to invite my friends over and host a meal, without undercooking the burgers. Hell, even writing is something I never would have considered to do as a profession had it not been for how hard I’d seen him work toward his goal of seeing his name appear at the end of an episode. My presence during these moments would incubate the man to come years down the line.

When I touched campus, the weight of my father really hit me. Not that he ever pressured me to do anything, he never had to. I pressured myself into molding my identity and behaviors off of who I thought he’d want me to be, and I figured he’d want me to be like him. Soon after came a long series of me conforming to this mold by attempting all the things he did during his years as a student. It was a terrible attempt. After many of these didn’t work out I questioned whether he’d love me more had I been successful. It was draining and I had no concept of what it meant to live for myself or by my own standards.

I can’t pinpoint the exact time at which I realized I was no longer within his shadow, but at the time I’m writing this it was no later than yesterday. My dad and I have had many discussions in the past surrounding what he wanted me to get from my college experience. With each one he’d reiterate that now was the time to discover who I am, in whatever way that looked like for me. I never believed him, for I had the notion that every father wants their kid to be like them. I wanted to be outgoing, I wanted to be charming, and I wanted to have a relevant impact within my circles. Like Paul’s blinding moment, in the midst of persecuting myself, my sudden revelation came when I realized I already had all of these things. My revelation came when I understood that while I wanted to be like my dad, I also wanted to be myself.

Biologically I’m 50% of my father, but that shouldn’t stop me from seeing myself as an individual. Though many of our interests cross in one way or another, the qualities I’ve adopted from him I’ve shaped into a way that fits me and my lifestyle. And forevermore shall this new attitude persist.