My father visited me a few weeks ago. It was the first time in my life that I'd been alone with him in one house for an entire week. I was hosting, the house was mine, my first in my name (once the bond is paid off) and I wanted him to be proud. He was, but he had some thoughts on areas of improvement. It upset me, why couldn't a full 20 minutes pass before a critique followed a compliment. Then I realized, thaaaat's where I get it from. I do that to myself. Eeek! It took me two days to share with him, that, I just wanted him to be proud and not look at what could be done better. He was really sweet about it and I'll tell you what he said later. But he wasn't wrong. There was a whole lot that could be done better. I knew it, I just didn't have budget for it, his assessment was spot on but I just wanted him not assess and just beam with pride.
I've wanted my father to be proud of me since I was 14 and I went to him with that 97% history result. He asked me where the other three went. I was hurt then, his critiquing my rusting draining pipe hurt too. When I finally addressed my desire for him to just be present and appreciate my performance his response was the same as the one he'd given me when I was a teenager. He said "I want the best for you, I know you have more in you, but even though I want and know this, whenever you succeed, do it because you want to, not to make me happy!" Boom! Bars ya'll! Even though he didn't say my happiness would make him happy, I knew that was his heart.
My father comes across as a perfectionist in my eyes, not because he actually is, its because I have performance obsession issues. I have projected my own anxieties to him and others who have some say over aspects of my life, work and relationships. Something we label others, what we are. What I've learned about dad in particular is he has quite a dry sense of humour, typical of many intelligent, middle aged Zimbabwean men. I've seen that many times those "where did that 3% go?" type comments are sarcastic ways of saying "geez, over achiever..." or "so this beautiful house must put up with those dodgy drain pipes" is his way of saying my drain pipes are ACTUALLY dodgy hahaha. OK the man's not perfect, but I understand his language. He loves me full stop.
There are times I've failed, achieved nothing, but he's consistently supported me, even when I phoned him just to complain about one thing or the next. He never asks me to do anything he wouldn't do himself. I've seen my father and I have a ton in common, that some may say "abrasive" sense of humour, high standards, but also fierce love that moves to action when required. I am learning from my father, the willingness to engage. When I addressed how hurt I was by him not doing cartwheels in honour of my house, he humbly said "you deserve the best, I want you to know that..." his own way of saying, "I see and acknowledge your success, but you have to set new goals and go for those now." We both suck at stopping and smelling the roses, I don't think he does it enough, I have a tendency to stop for too long and fail to move forward. Surely a middle ground is better.
Takes aways from the solo week I spent with my favourite man on earth were:
I've wanted my father to be proud of me since I was 14 and I went to him with that 97% history result. He asked me where the other three went. I was hurt then, his critiquing my rusting draining pipe hurt too. When I finally addressed my desire for him to just be present and appreciate my performance his response was the same as the one he'd given me when I was a teenager. He said "I want the best for you, I know you have more in you, but even though I want and know this, whenever you succeed, do it because you want to, not to make me happy!" Boom! Bars ya'll! Even though he didn't say my happiness would make him happy, I knew that was his heart.
My father comes across as a perfectionist in my eyes, not because he actually is, its because I have performance obsession issues. I have projected my own anxieties to him and others who have some say over aspects of my life, work and relationships. Something we label others, what we are. What I've learned about dad in particular is he has quite a dry sense of humour, typical of many intelligent, middle aged Zimbabwean men. I've seen that many times those "where did that 3% go?" type comments are sarcastic ways of saying "geez, over achiever..." or "so this beautiful house must put up with those dodgy drain pipes" is his way of saying my drain pipes are ACTUALLY dodgy hahaha. OK the man's not perfect, but I understand his language. He loves me full stop.
There are times I've failed, achieved nothing, but he's consistently supported me, even when I phoned him just to complain about one thing or the next. He never asks me to do anything he wouldn't do himself. I've seen my father and I have a ton in common, that some may say "abrasive" sense of humour, high standards, but also fierce love that moves to action when required. I am learning from my father, the willingness to engage. When I addressed how hurt I was by him not doing cartwheels in honour of my house, he humbly said "you deserve the best, I want you to know that..." his own way of saying, "I see and acknowledge your success, but you have to set new goals and go for those now." We both suck at stopping and smelling the roses, I don't think he does it enough, I have a tendency to stop for too long and fail to move forward. Surely a middle ground is better.
Takes aways from the solo week I spent with my favourite man on earth were:
- Set your own standards and goals. If someone that cares about you happens to be proud of you when you reach them, awesome! But aim to make yourself proud first regardless.
- Celebrate successes, but don't rush past them so you miss the moment, but also don't settle there unless you want. If your objective is to keep growing, keep moving.
- Fix dodgy drain pipes or they can wreck pretty houses.
So here's to growing new roses, its prickly business but worth the reward of enjoying a whole garden one day.
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