I told my son
A week ago I had set up a time to take my son to lunch. We met at a deli near his office and I had told him I had some things I wanted to talk about. I had been both anticipating and dreading this day for the past couple of years. I planned to tell him about the CSA in my past. I was quite anxious about it. I had already told everyone else in the immediate family my wife and two daughters. He is 30 and they are 27 and 25. I knew he would be the most difficult to tell. But I felt like I needed to do that. Over the past few years we had become more and more distant and I knew that much of it was my fault holding him off and shutting him out. We rarely talked about anything deep or personal or significant. I knew that it was because of my inability to trust other men.
We started with small talk but as soon as the food arrived I cut to the chase and said that I wanted to do two things apologize and tell him some family history that might help him understand the dynamics of some relationships and the lack of others among our relatives.
I apologized for not being the dad that he needed growing up not being able to participate or take an interest in sports and for being distant and emotionally inaccessible and not as available and supportive as I should have been. (This was also a required part of the 12-step program I was involved in during the past year making amends to those we have offended or hurt.)
Then I told him a lot that he had never known about my dysfunctional family going back to grandparents, my mom and abusive step-dad, the CSA in my childhood, the bullying and abuse in middle school, scouts and finally from a stranger in a tailor shop while in my teens. I told him how it had impacted my personality, self-image, masculine identity, every relationship, jobs and career, and ultimately my own family including how I related to him. I told him that was why I was not close to my parents and why he rarely saw his grandparents. I told him about my bouts of depression, periods of suicidal tendencies, two rounds of therapy, and how I had also been helped by Male Survivor, a Weekend of Recovery, and Celebrate Recovery.
I barely touched my sandwich.
Afterwards he thanked me for sharing, said that he had not felt slighted or neglected and that I had nothing to apologize for as a father in his eyes. He also commented that it must have been hard to tell him all that. Surprisingly, it was not as difficult as I had feared. And he received it far better than I had expected. I could tell that he was not judging me and it definitely brought us closer. I had been allowing the big secret to push us farther and farther apart. As we parted and he returned to work, he gave me a big hug and told me he loves me.
A few days later, he was seeing us off at the airport. I barely succeeded in reaching that goal before we left for another 2-year assignment. I had been putting it off for the whole year we had been back in the US, but I am so glad that I finally got up the determination to go through with it.
LEE
We started with small talk but as soon as the food arrived I cut to the chase and said that I wanted to do two things apologize and tell him some family history that might help him understand the dynamics of some relationships and the lack of others among our relatives.
I apologized for not being the dad that he needed growing up not being able to participate or take an interest in sports and for being distant and emotionally inaccessible and not as available and supportive as I should have been. (This was also a required part of the 12-step program I was involved in during the past year making amends to those we have offended or hurt.)
Then I told him a lot that he had never known about my dysfunctional family going back to grandparents, my mom and abusive step-dad, the CSA in my childhood, the bullying and abuse in middle school, scouts and finally from a stranger in a tailor shop while in my teens. I told him how it had impacted my personality, self-image, masculine identity, every relationship, jobs and career, and ultimately my own family including how I related to him. I told him that was why I was not close to my parents and why he rarely saw his grandparents. I told him about my bouts of depression, periods of suicidal tendencies, two rounds of therapy, and how I had also been helped by Male Survivor, a Weekend of Recovery, and Celebrate Recovery.
I barely touched my sandwich.
Afterwards he thanked me for sharing, said that he had not felt slighted or neglected and that I had nothing to apologize for as a father in his eyes. He also commented that it must have been hard to tell him all that. Surprisingly, it was not as difficult as I had feared. And he received it far better than I had expected. I could tell that he was not judging me and it definitely brought us closer. I had been allowing the big secret to push us farther and farther apart. As we parted and he returned to work, he gave me a big hug and told me he loves me.
A few days later, he was seeing us off at the airport. I barely succeeded in reaching that goal before we left for another 2-year assignment. I had been putting it off for the whole year we had been back in the US, but I am so glad that I finally got up the determination to go through with it.
LEE
