Own Your Relationships, Own Your Life
I knew something had to change. I woke up single, broke, and living at home with my parents. So much had changed in just a few months. My dream of living abroad, snorkeling through reefs, hiking through a tropical paradise and making love on white sandy beaches came screeching to a halt. I had quit my six-figure job, turned in my company car, sold most my possessions, and flew over ten thousand miles away from home to spend the rest of my days with the man I thought would love me for all eternity. I couldn’t cope with what my life had become. On top of that, my biological father had become ill and would in a matter of days be diagnosed with stage IV Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.
My father and I were not close. Estranged would be the proper name but I preferred to call him a holiday dad. He called on Easter, my birthday, Thanksgiving, and if we could make our schedules work, Christmas. You get the picture? I used to dread his calls. In fact, I would see his name pop up and watch the call go to voicemail. Then I would wait a good two months before returning his calls. Back then, my dad didn’t know me and I didn’t think it was my job to inform him. I thought, if he wanted more, he would show up more. The thing was, he didn’t and neither did I.
This wasn’t always the case. That’s not to say my dad was always there or was nominated as Father of the year. However, there was a stretch of my life when he was very present. He married my stepmother and quickly had a live in daughter, my step sister. Finally, my dad became a dad to me, Wednesday through Sunday, every other week. I could count on him parenting me the only way he knew how, present in body but afar emotionally. He showed his love by joking, teasing, knuckle sandwiches, and letting me sit in his cars while he worked on them. That was until the divorce. Seemingly overnight, he turned into a shadow of the man I came to love. He became holiday dad.
Upon the return from my dreaded break up, I needed to get my mind off something and my head off my tear soaked pillow. My dad’s wife passed unexpectedly and I knew I owed him a visit. Rather than deal with my own problems, I borrowed my mom’s car and drove down the same dusty country road from my childhood. I was in complete and utter shock at the man who stood before me. My dad is large man, over six feet tall, thighs larger than a teenager’s waist and hands that can deflate a soccer ball. But this was not the strong, beer bellied man that I knew. The doctors would later tell us that his pancreas had gotten so enlarged that it was pushing against his lungs and was collecting fluid in his abdomen. Not only did he look pregnant, my father was at high risk of dying from sepsis which incidentally was the same condition that took his father’s life the decade prior.
With no one to take my father to the emergency room or his appointments, I volunteered to be his caregiver. At the time, I did it because I was a people pleaser and more pressing, the last thing I wanted to do was to wake up with swollen eyes and a purposeless life. There was a lot wrong with this approach, the biggest being we were both raw. Carrying our burdens of heartbreak and loneliness was hard enough and here we were showing up as unified team to nurse after doctor after specialist and pharmacist. The facade was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
He had some friends show up at the hospital and when my dad introduced me, one of them jokingly said, “Oh here is the mysterious daughter we hear so much about! We didn’t think you were real.” Then my dad added a laugh and another jab at my expense. I was fucking furious and really really sad. I said a quick goodnight to my dad who needed to stay overnight for testing and drove home faster than I should have been for a retirement town on a hillside. I got home and looked at my real dad, the one who had raised me and the man who I owe me last name, and let it all out. I shared what that man had said and how pissed off I was. Then unexpectedly, I started crying. I cried so hard my body ached and fortunately for me he sat down right beside me and rubbed my back and waited until it was quiet.

The thing about my dads that surprises most people, they grew up together. Blame it on small town America but they literally grew up in the same neighborhood, same group of friends, I could go on and on. My real dad is not only a full hearted man but he has special insight into my “other” dad. He shared with me that my dad wasn’t a very deep man. His relationships were often based on joking and teasing like most men in his generation and it was used as a way to show admiration and love for one another. I laughed at how idiotic that was. He gave me a big hug then continued to share how much better it was than what the men in his father’s generation did or rather didn’t do. In his own words, he explained that parents want more for their children than they had. More so, that even know it’s hard to believe, he was showing love and comfort the best way he knew how. I took it as a sign.
If I wanted to have a better relationship with my father, than I had to own it. He didn’t have the tools, but I did. I sought therapy. I started talking about uncomfortable things. It took awhile. It didn’t look pretty. In fact, I left him at the hospital more than once. I cried some more. I leaned on the people in my life that offered unwavering support like my real dad. I didn’t wait for him to call me and when he did, I didn’t let it go to voicemail. Nothing felt more empowering than knowing my father and him knowing me. Then I started taking responsibility for how I showed up in all my relationships. I was showing up for myself and the people I loved and even let go of the relationships that no longer served me. Tom Waits said, “The way you do anything is the way you do everything”. Taking ownership for my relationship with my holiday dad was the first step in taking back my life.

Sierra Rasmussen is Chief Empowerment Officer and Authenticity Coach of Empowerment University. She is on a mission to empower millions of women across the globe! The belief that the true source of happiness and success comes when you live authentically is at the foundation of her message. As a woman who has overcome a wide range of adversity from heartbreak, layoffs, overwhelming debt, and sexual abuse, Sierra proudly embraces the role as a lighthouse for women showing them that their dream life is possible. She can be found globetrotting on Instagram @sierraceo and sharing how to an authentic empowered life on Facebook @empowermentuniversity.
