Naming my attachment loss

the death of my dad

A few weeks ago marked the third anniversary of my dad’s death. As I reflect on his life, I am grateful for the invaluable lessons that he taught me and the virtues that he modeled.

Dad was quiet, laid back, and easy-going. In a word, he provided; I was blessed to grow up in a stable home and live a comfortable life. But above the material things that my dad provided, my dad showed up, was present, and only worked enough so that he can be home with us kids.

Even more than this, my dad loved the Lord and the Catholic Church. He showed this in simple yet consistent ways. His daily prayer life, commitment to mass, and respect for the sacramental life are to name a few of the explicit spiritual practices that I saw him model as early as I can remember.

My dad was an incredible man; it’s hard to believe that my own son will never meet him in this life, that my wife did not get the chance to know him more.

As time passed after his death, I wondered why I never felt as weighed down as others by his passing. I certainly was not avoiding the grieving process, I knew that grief looks different for every person. But something felt off; there was a disconnect that I felt deep down.

I am beginning to realize that this disconnect is a result of never having a real, tangible, and emotional bond with my dad. Growing up, I rarely did anything with my dad one-on-one. On the one hand, I was never interested in the things my dad was interested in; on the other hand, I was interested in things my dad didn’t quite understand. As I grew up, I knew he was proud of me for my achievements in school, music, and the arts but I never had a sense that he was just proud of me.

The emotional needs of men and women are different. Both require attunement, presence, and regulation, but at varying levels (temperament will also play a role here). For the developing boy, a lot of his emotional “father-needs” can be met simply by spending time with him: watching a football game, doing yard work together, playing catch, doing a house project, etc. While “time spent” does not guarantee that his emotional needs will be met, it does instill a sense of belonging in the boy, both aiding his identification as male and bestowing an initial sense of masculinity within his psyche.

My dad never knew how to spend time with me because, quite frankly, I wasn’t interested in the things that he was. I liked staying inside, reading, baking, and cooking. There were countless times that I watched my older brother and dad do things together outside while I stayed indoors with my mom and sisters. The window through which I watched my brother and dad was like a chasm that separated me from masculinity. Men and the things men did seemed “other worldly”, something I could not relate to nor was interested in.

Perhaps it was simply a lack of genuine interest in what I was doing, a lack of initiating quality time for just the two of us—perhaps it was something a bit more that I do not quite understand, at least for the time being. Regardless of its origins, I know that the lack of one-on-one time I personally spent with my dad contributed to an overall emotional disconnect from him, leaving me with an implicit sense that dad was someone distant from me. After a lot of reading and reflecting on the current literature of attachment traumas, I know that this felt distance from my dad was also a felt distance from masculinity itself.

Fathers are, in every way, a boy’s first representation of masculinity. Bestowing this upon the developing child is a critical task. As a young boy individuates himself from his mother, becomes more aware of the male-female dichotomy, and sees himself as an engendered person different from the mother, the father must not only attune to the child’s needs but also initiate a deeper connection with the child. These small yet powerful actions of the father help to solidify the boy’s understanding not only of his own masculinity but of his male gender.

Failing to spend quality time with my dad is not the sole catalyst for feeling emotionally disconnected with him, though it was certainly a contributor. The present moment has a funny way of revealing the past—early attachment traumas themselves impress a relational archetype that sets the stage for subsequent relationships.

Connecting with other men and fostering male friendships has always been particularly hard for me. Most of my close friends in childhood were girls—I felt more emotionally connected with them than my male peers. In the mystery of my early developmental history, the emotional disconnect and psychological distance I felt with my dad was projected into future relationships with male peers. In some way, I felt different from other boys, different from other men. I believe that this was the result of failing to identity with the male gender at a very early age.

I never felt drawn to transgenderism or that I was born in the wrong body. But I did feel disconnected from it as I did with masculinity in general. Watching other boys play sports, rough house, and “be guys” seemed like a different world to me, a world that I was not a part of. This “other worldliness” would eventually become eroticized as I transitioned into adolescence; for that which is mysterious often becomes sexualized in the teenage years.

I do not blame my dad for contributing to my development of same-sex attraction. But as I grow in self-understanding and freedom in the Lord, it has been helpful to come to terms with the reality of my early psycho-social environment.

I know there are other layers and dimensions to the development of my same-sex attraction. At the same time, there is a sense in which my relationship with my father is signaling a root.

I remain grateful for everything that my dad was and I have no resentment for the things that he did not know how to give me. I remain hopeful in the Lord that after this valley of tears, we will be united again in the heavens, rooted in the glory of the Lord who unites the body of Christ to his own glorified body.

I do not pray for these only, but also for those who believe in me through their word, that they may all be one; even as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that thou hast sent me. The glory which thou hast given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, I in them and thou in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that thou hast sent me and hast loved them even as thou hast loved me.

John 17: 20-24