The Moment I Realized I Had Failed As A Parent

It was 1993.

I was in nursing school; my wife at the time was in med school.

Our little girl, Katelyn, was barely about yay tall and had just started walking.

We were the proverbial "starving students."

It was my turn to run to the grocery store for milk and diapers.

My wife reached into her purse to grab the keys. Instead, she grabbed something else and handed them over to me.

Foodstamps.

Time stopped. Everything froze. Especially my breathing as I looked at the book of "welfare" given to us by the government so I could buy food for my family.

We were poor. Dirt poor, and as I type this, I feel it welling up inside me.

I've failed as a father

Anger, frustration, sadness, determination, grit, and resolution walloped me all at once. I'd rather take a punch from Tyson than experience that smack again.

And then…

Katelyn looked up at me, outstretched arms and a saggy diaper barely held up with cheap velcro, and spoke to me through her huge brown eyes…

"Daddy, I'm hungry."

I held it together long enough to get into the car before I broke down.

And when it was done, I made THE decision that would change my life forever.

Never again

Never fucking again will anyone ever have to…EVER…feed my family.

That moment was the spark that lit the bonfire that burns to this day and propels me, compels me, and drives me to give my best in everything I do.

Because I refuse to return to that moment again.

Why does this even matter?

Because we are all on a journey in life. And we all face obstacles, heartaches, heartbreaks, and even those moments when it feels like life is unfair. Like the chips are stacked against us.

I get it.

I do.

And I know you do too.

We both understand it to the core of our beings, but what I refused to do that day was let those obstacles overcome me. Sure, I was overwhelmed in that moment, but we stand up and dust off. I learned a lesson that would change my life forever and make me who I am today.

I decided I would fight through the rough times, not run from them.

And the truth is, I'm not much different than you

In 1993, survival and my self-esteem as a man and a father required me to get out there and do whatever it took to provide for my family.

That was then; this is now.

That fire still burns inside. 

Today it requires me to be innovative, seizing opportunities others wouldn't recognize as such. It forced me to ask new questions. Different questions. Questions that would lead to outcomes to move that needle forward.

It was that fire that pushed me through college and nursing school.

It was that fire that eventually led to the formation of my first startup and subsequent exit.

It was that fire that I realized was always there, waiting for me to harness it.

And then it brought me here. Writing. Freelance writing and sharing those vulnerable moments as stories in hopes that someone out there might read, and stand up, and win.

But look…

It took hard work and a huge slice of humble pie.

Ok, maybe it was the whole pie, but you know what I mean.

If you're the person who needs to read this right now, or perhaps you know someone who is feeling this way, here are the questions we need to ask ourselves first.

Yeah, I said "we." We're in this together as people and as humans

1. What is the REAL obstacle?

2. What's the one thing you NEED to succeed but are not getting?

3. Are you WILLING to take a risk and fight for it?

4. How badly do you WANT it?

I'm not giving you the answers. That's something you need to find for yourself. Your life is not my life, and your lousy days are not my lousy days.

For me, back then, it was about fighting for myself, for my family, and even those who were yet to be born.

Because they're depending on you.

On us.

To find that fire.