Have you ever been seen?

Yesterday, I sat on the train, and across from me was a father with his son. Observing them had a profound impact on me. I noticed several emotions coursing through my body. Out of curiosity, I tried to discern the emotions I felt and their origins. There was sadness, but also excitement and joy. I could feel my inner boy's longing for that kind of attention. This longing stems from my relationship with my father.

What I saw before me was a father in his forties with his eight-year-old son. But what I truly observed was his presence, curiosity, and availability for the boy. They were heading somewhere in London, and the son was obviously excited. He couldn't sit still, continuously looking around and outside, bombarding his dad with questions. The dad seemed to listen intently, answering each question with utmost patience and accuracy. He was genuinely tuned in to his son, curious not just about the questions but also about their origins and underlying emotions. The father was seeing his son, hearing his son, and his son felt it.

I noticed the glimmer of satisfaction and pride in the father's eyes. The warmth emanating from his heart was palpable. I could see how safe the boy felt with his dad, opening up to him. That struck me the most; the safety that allowed the boy to be curious, excited, and to view the world as if everything he saw was new.

As I watched them, I wondered how many of us have ever truly felt seen in that way. I certainly can't remember feeling that way. It reminded me of what I had missed, what many men I work with have missed, and what they are still longing for.

The father's support is needed

Many men in my practice, including myself, have missed out on that kind of relationship with their fathers. They have longed for a father who was present, who had their backs, and who could truly see and hear them. They didn't have the two hands of a father on their backs, reassuring them with a voice saying, "Go explore the world. I am here if it gets dangerous or if you fall!"

This absence is often not the father's fault. They were probably in the same situation, missing similar support from their fathers. Nobody showed them how to be present and how to be with their emotions at the same time.

The further we go back in time, the more we see how emotionally absent fathers have been for their children. And when I say "children," I mean both sons and daughters, though I am focusing on sons now.

The focus was primarily on work and generating income. The responsibility of feeding the family and providing a roof over their heads fell squarely on the man. Any emotional issues with the kids were typically left for the mother to handle.

If the father was never supported or held in his fear, grief, or anxiety, how could he do that for his son? Often, the father had his own struggles to deal with. All his energy likely went into managing his own issues and maintaining the facade of 'manning up.'

So, if our fathers never supported us, we find ourselves in a similar situation. We need to navigate our own challenges, figuring out 'how to be a man' and 'getting our own lives together.' We require all our attention and energy to support and hold our own inner boy, with all his fears and struggles.

The world has changed

However, the world has changed. Unlike our fathers and grandfathers, we live in a time when emotional support is readily available. We can reach out for therapy, join men’s circles, or work with mentors, coaches, or therapists who help us find what was missing. We can even explore our ancestral line and connect with the healthy masculine energy that once existed there. We have the tools available to break the chain passed down from father to son in our lineage.

Of course, this change isn’t easy. For many of us, it brings confusion, guilt, or even grief. We start to see what was missing, what we didn’t receive, and that can hurt. A part of us still wishes it could have been different—that our fathers had been there, that someone had shown us how to navigate this journey.

But this awareness is also the beginning of freedom. Once we can feel the pain without turning away, we can choose something new. We can begin to offer ourselves, and those around us, the very presence we longed for.

At some point, each of us must decide to take responsibility. We need to stop waiting for the father who never came and become that presence ourselves. It is up to us to step out of the script that tells us we must always be the strongest, that vulnerability is weakness, and that we must perform well to justify our existence.

It is our responsibility to take the necessary steps to give our children the presence, safety, and attention they deserve. Being seen empowers them, helping them thrive and feel self-confident. It gives them the life they are entitled to have.

Unlike our ancestors, we have time and resources. We can acquire the tools to help us hold our inner child, see and hear our younger selves, heal our wounds, and be there for our children, supporting and holding them.

It only requires you to reach out, to open up, and to dare to be vulnerable and own your flaws.

Our children have the right to feel safe and to be held!

What's your mission here?

Take the time to be curious about yourself. How present are you for your children? How is your connection with your inner boy? Are you truly there for your friends, your partner, or your colleagues (and their inner children)? What keeps you from being more present?

What kind of support do you currently have? Are you someone who tries to do everything on your own? What kind of support do you need to be more present?

Consider looking for a men's circle or exploring one of the many workshops available. Perhaps even consider a workshop for you and your son together. Read books by authors who write specifically for curious men, such as David Deida, Robert Bly, or John Wineland. A small first step could even be admitting to yourself that you are struggling to be present.

It is about taking a step away from the script. The script was passed down through generations. The script that insists we should be strong enough, that we should have our lives together, and that we should just keep going.

Are you brave enough to let go of that script?