Fatherhood

I will never know what it actually feels to be a father.

That day I turned 26 I vowed never to marry. Not because I really wanted to, but more to serve as a fearless statement and a fitting tribute to a newfound identity following meaningful experiences with self-acceptance. It’s so clear to me the reasons behind the decision. For one, I don’t need to prove to any one that I’m virile and capable of bursting my seeds to fertile lands. I’m not even interested to be portrayed as a good and dutiful son succumbing to family pressure to perpetuate one’s own genetic material lest I’ll be cut off from inheritance. My family’s not affluent so I’m safe in this regard. But worst of all, I don’t subscribe to the horrifying idea that family means family only when father-mother-brother-sister and the dog are present.

I’m thankful I have reached that stage in my life where valuing self-concept is not just a wild dream, but a living truth. I have spent many years finding and improving myself since that fateful day in 1996 when I turned 24 and thanked God for giving be courage to accept myself. The years that followed have been unexplainably happy and fulfilling, which likely rubbed on my parents. They are now careful not to insist on what they want, but defer to my judgment on things. I like to interpret this as their way of recognizing the truth that tradition and traditional things aren’t always justified and correct.

I may never be a father myself, but my god, I do know how to be one.