In the Name of the Father

I've spotted a pattern in my life and the lives of my ancestors and offspring. 

I'm trying to name it so I can break it, so I can help them break it also.

It seems to be a generational pattern; it manifests as the inability to express that you care deeply about someone, out of the fear of losing them.

It is the fear of loving someone so much that losing them would destroy you completely.

It is the fear of abandonment, the fear of loving, and the fear of being loved in return, all at the same time.

So you pretend you're not hurt, that you don't care, and can't be hurt as you don't care.

That nothing matters.

I wish I had a name for it, but I don't. Until I do, I can't break it.

All I have is emptiness and the feeling that I've failed somewhere, that I took the wrong turn and ended up on the wrong road that isn't leading to the place I want to go to.

Perhaps that is the answer, that I'm still on the journey and my choices are not done yet.

I need to think; whenever I don't think and just react, that's when I make bad choices. Or non-choices.

Think...

I might not be exactly where I want to be today, but I think I am where I need to be to be able to make the right choices about tomorrow.

To choose to be strong enough to allow myself to feel things, even if it means it hurts sometimes.

To allow myself to listen without judging or taking on the burdens of my loved ones.

To realize, not all problems confided in me are mine to resolve.

To accept that I cannot heal the pain of my loved ones all by myself, but that I can still affect their lives in a good way as long as I don't lose myself in the process.

That I can´t fix everything, even things that need fixing badly.

This is the pattern; I just need the name now.

I need to think more; everything is better when I think.

Until it isn't.

Think...

My father was absent from my life; perhaps he didn't choose to be, but not choosing to be present is a choice to be absent in itself.

He was more present for my two younger sisters. I know he isn't a bad parent, and I know he is capable of emotion, consideration, and love. He was just unable to be present for me.

The first time I talked to him was when I was 16. I told him I'd like to have some sort of parental relationship with him. He told me he wasn't sure if that was possible.

At one point, my resentment and hurt had grown to the point where I decided to take up my maternal grandfather´s name, instead of his.

I've tried very hard not to be absent from my children's lives.

I was absent from portions of my daughter's life. Not because I chose to, but not actively choosing to be present is a choice to be absent in itself.

I tried very hard to be more present, but trying isn't the same as succeeding. 

When she was 16, she told me she wanted more of a parental relationship with me, that she felt out of place and shut out. I wholeheartedly agreed, but then I failed to act on it.

Failure to act is worse than an act of failure; at least you know the parent who fails is trying.
The parent who fails to act isn´t even trying.

At one point, her resentment and hurt from being ignored and shut out had grown to the point where she decided to have her stepfather adopt her and took up his name.

I was more present for my two younger children. I know I'm not a bad parent, and I know I am capable of emotion, consideration, and love. I was just unable to be present for her.

Do you see the pattern? 

Does it have a name yet?

Generational pattern, I name you Indifference.

Indifference, you're not mine. I didn't choose you, and I will not carry you around anymore.

Because I choose to care, even if it sometimes hurts.