The Birth of My Daughter Made Me Build the Best Version of Myself
When my daughter was born, I, like most people, felt an immediate and intense pressure to be better. At the time, unfortunately, “a better me” felt miles away and all but unobtainable. I was wrapped in a cocoon of self-hated and loathing greater than anything I’d ever experience and, while I had a general idea of what was missing, I didn’t know how to reconnect with it.
Despite an immense desire to forge a new career path, I felt trapped. Could I pull off a career pivot without jeopardizing our household income? Was it even the right time to try and make such a change given our first child was on the way?
The closer my daughter’s debut crept, the more intense my anxiety became. I didn’t believe I was enough for anyone, let alone good enough to be the father she needed me to be. Unsurprisingly, my “inner speak,” which was already too negative to begin with, turned downright toxic around this time.
I grew numb, and I didn’t have the faintest clue how to combat the feeling. Sure, I could chase it away for small stretches of time, but it always came roaring back. The thought of raising a daughter felt like an insurmountable task. The thing is, once your child arrives, there is no more time to plan or prepare. They’re just there with you suddenly and it’s up to you to fight the darkness with whatever light you have within.
Although I had spent months speaking in therapy about this anxiety, I didn’t feel ready. But then there I was standing in a hospital room holding her in my arms for the first time. She cried, and I cried, too. Although I hadn’t resolved the turmoil within myself -not even close- I knew I had to be better.
She’s here but I don’t feel ready
Any parent knows how much of a shock to the system those first few weeks are, but in addition to the regular sleepless nights and feedings every two hours, I was back in school trying to finish my degree as part of the aforementioned career pivot. This meant that I was working full-time, tackling a full-time class schedule, and raising a baby. Oh, and as a degree requirement, I was also juggling a part-time professional internship that required another 10–12 hours each week.
Every day was chaos. Most of the time it felt as though I could only stand there at the heart of the storm hoping I could remain standing until the howling winds calmed and the sun shone once more.
In spite of the unbearable strain on my mental health, I somehow finished that semester with a 4.0, although if I’m honest I still don’t know how.
The semester from hell was over and, thankfully, my daughter was beginning to settle into a more regular sleep schedule. Things finally seemed to be looking up, but I was still conflicted internally.
The turning point
This past January, just after the semester from hell wrapped up, my wife surprised me with a week-long retreat to a cabin in the mountains. It was exactly what I needed.
I needed to change the story I told myself throughout the day and, above all, to be more gentle with myself.
While things were hardly perfect at the cabin, they were certainly more than good enough for me to recalibrate a bit. Sure, I initially wanted to lament the things that didn’t live up to what I had envisioned the retreat being, but I knew the trip’s ultimate success as it related to my mental state would hinge on whether or not I could accept things as they were and make the best of them. Besides, it was our first trip as a family, and noisy neighbors or not, I was exactly where I needed to be.
After some early struggles to untangle the mess of negative thoughts, I found clarity, and then I took a necessary look under the hood.
I needed to change the story I told myself throughout the day and, above all, to be more gentle with myself. If I couldn’t, my negative thought patterns would never change, which meant I, in turn, would never change. My daughter deserved the best version of myself, one that’s joyful and fully engaged rather than subdued and emotionally withdrawn.
Changing thought patterns is easier said than done, of course. Neural pathways forge over time, making certain patterns and responses play on a loop like a broken record. But, as with meditation, the answer isn’t to lament or become frustrated by a slip-up but to simply notice it and then step back. Now, anytime I notice I’m being critical of myself, I make a point of correcting it aloud.
By focusing on improving my relationship with myself, thereby chasing away the dark thoughts that clouded my mind, I found that I was able to focus more on the positive steps I was making and to incorporate other helpful practices into my daily routine along the way. The result has been a better, healthier me, which in turn has increased my confidence and improved my mood, making me more engaging and active with my wife and daughter.
The changes were things I’d thought about and even tried unsuccessfully to adopt in the years prior to my daughter’s birth, meaning all it took was that added push to become better.
I was worried that if I felt broken due to parts of my childhood, those same patterns might ultimately affect my daughter -a possibility that was simply unacceptable. So I changed, and I’m never going back.
I smile more these days, often mirroring my daughter’s own goofiness as she claps and bounces in place to her music.
When we took the trip, my daughter was six months old and really starting to form her own personality. I understood that it was essential for me to resolve this conflict and find the light once more within me. Thanks to my wonderful wife, I was able to take the time I needed without the stress or obligations of normal, everyday life to cloud my mind. It was exactly the right thing at the right moment to change the course of my life for the better, but it wouldn’t have worked were it not for the overwhelming need to realize my best self and be the best father possible for my daughter, Harper.
Final thoughts
I smile more these days, often mirroring my daughter’s own goofiness as she claps and bounces in place to her music. It’s been incredible to see her become her own person and feel our bond grow. I’m no longer fearful that I’m somehow not enough or that I’ll break her as I, myself, felt broken once before. Empowered by my wife and daughter’s love and support, I’ve embraced the best parts of myself, in turn becoming the best version of myself as a man, as a person, and as a father.
