Mean Dad

I get called “Mean Dad” a lot at home. For anything from telling them to turn off video games to telling them to clean their rooms. Pretty on par for most parents I am told. I let the names bother me far more than I should; I mean I called my parents names like that when I was a kid and I can say with full confidence that I didn’t mean a word of it. Why do I let it bother me? That is the question I will explore in today’s post.

I will start by figuring out what it is about it that hurts. I am not 100% sure, but I think it stems from my low self esteem and my need to be accepted and loved. That seems pretty obvious and maybe it really is that simple, but I think there is more at play here. I enjoy over complicating things and this is going to be no different. I want my kids to be happy and love me and I know for the most part they are. Maybe it is my anti-authority attitude that I have nurtured my whole life, but I feel guilty every time I set rules for them. I know it is the right thing to do and I believe in not spoiling them (not that I could afford to!) and I try to instil a thankful attitude. It still doesn’t seem to make it any easier. I have a pretty low opinion of myself which seems to make any negative opinion of me sting that much more. I have always preached a message of “don’t worry what others think”, but as I have said on many occasions, I don’t always do what I say. I can’t pinpoint anything that would cause me to have such a poor self-image, but I am told that is part and parcel with the crippling depression I live with. How can I turn this around? That is the big question. It being the magnitude that it is, there is no small fix and no easy method. So the moral of the story is that I have to keep on working and try not to be so hard on myself.

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