Navigating Life’s Unexpected Turns

As a dad, society expected me to solve it independently, but my community played a crucial role in my journey to healing.

One year ago, I was laid off from my job.

That morning, as I prepared for a one-on-one with my boss, he sent me a message that kindly but essentially said, “Don’t worry about preparing for our call today. It’ll be our last.”

I paced back and forth for 90 minutes, preparing to be let go, and when I joined our call to find my boss in a collared shirt featuring a surprise guest appearance from the Head of HR, I knew it was over.

The news was humiliating. Almost every Recruiter I knew was being let go, including a friend who was laid off from a different company the same day as me. Yet none of that mattered. Being among hundreds of thousands of people facing unemployment didn’t make me feel better. Weeks before Christmas, I had to look my family in the eyes and say, “Things are going to be a little rough for a while.”

I am far from the only person who’s experienced unexpected hardships. If life promises us one thing, it’s that trials and tribulations are coming, so get ready.

I count my blessings for a wife who could work full-time while I couldn’t. I’m grateful for my family, who was beyond generous once my severance package was depleted. I’m thankful to friends who offered me part-time employment because one year later, I’m alive and well and in a much better position than I was one year ago, thanks to them.

My community saved me. The people around me lifted me when life took an unexpected turn. I think about the importance of connectivity and how we deserve to have people around us who can encourage, support, and love us in our darkest moments.

I think about it because right now, men are reporting historic levels of loneliness, feeling as if they have no one to help, no friends, and no community. These valid feelings are leading to higher rates of depression, alcohol and drug consumption, self-harm, and suicide. With a cohort of highly paid bad actors blaming loneliness on everything from liberalism to video games, the waters of finding healing are getting murkier by the day, and the pressures of historic masculinity are killing us slowly.

I’ve touched on this topic before, and I will likely do it again, but for now, if you’re a Dad, I’m asking you to rethink almost everything we’ve learned about what it means to be a man. Rethink the suppression of emotions. Rethink the “I can do it myself” mentality. To live well, we must embrace help, vulnerability, and the very feelings we’ve been taught to keep to ourselves. Our kids deserve to see their dads for who we are, not who we think we should be.

Last year I was sad. Really freaking sad. I hated answering questions about my unemployment. I hated fixing our squeaky dryer. I hated selling my tickets to Michelle Obama’s Book Tour and canceling our tenth-anniversary vacation because it was a wise financial decision amidst my lack of paychecks.

But when I felt insecure or just outright mad, I was able to be honest with my wife, family, and friends and move every piece of negativity in my soul out in the open where I could hear the phrase I didn’t quite believe at the time; You are loved. You are supported. Lean on others. Everything will be okay.

Life is going to take unexpected turns. That’s a given. Sometimes our GPS will lead us straight into a lake, and you know what? You don’t have to find a silver lining in that. Sometimes things just suck. That’s normal. But we don’t have to take these turns alone.

While we all face our unique struggles, every human you know has experienced a hardship, whether it’s publicized or not. The burden of unemployment, marital struggles, custody battles, or anything else are not burdens for you to carry alone.

Dads deserve to be seen in an honest light. Forget every book, show, and piece of content that suggests otherwise. I want to see Dads cheering like school girls in the front row of a theater as their daughter crushes her ballet performance. I want to see Dads gleefully throwing axes against wooden targets and giving out bearhugs to each other after getting a hole-in-one on the golf course.

Whatever brings you joy, I want to see it because joy has no gender, sexual orientation, or classification. Joy is not reserved for the ones who’ve allegedly figured it out. It’s reserved for those striving to see a better day tomorrow while working to make a better life for others today.

Whatever you’re facing, I pray you find the strength to address it head-on, and most importantly, I pray you find a way to address it with the community around you.