You Can Call Me Dad.

Even though I’m not a dad.

I do not have kids and there is a strong chance that I will die without children of my own. It’s not that I have anything against children or fear parenting, it is simply a result of a number of life circumstances that has led to my being, now over forty years old, a non-father.

Now hold on there. People wish me a “Happy Father’s Day” for days before and days after the June holiday as they “Merry Christmas” me silly in December. There is an interesting assumption people make about such things. I’m not a dad and I’m not a Christian, but it doesn’t stop folks from throwing their cheer my way.

It used to really irritate me about the Merry Christmas thing, and there aren’t many things that truly irritate me. Especially with the popular campaign to “put Christ back into Christmas” which does a wonderful job debunking those who wish to persuade me that Christmas is an American holiday and not a religious one. But I digress. Or, do I?

Why is it that people assume I have children? Perhaps it is because I’m a man over forty. Perhaps it is because I choose to grow my facial hair. Perhaps it is because I am a psychotherapist. Perhaps it is because I smile at other people’s kids (in a nice way, not creepy) and even strike up conversations with young people in a way that I believe not many adults have a tendency to do.

However, I’m thinking the answer has less to do with me and more to do with you.
Yes you.

Why do you feel the need to wish me a happy anything when you are not sure if that specific happiness applies to my life? I think the answer leads us back to that favorite topic of mine, projection. There were precious few women whom I dated in my life (or married for that matter) that didn’t stare at me with that look in their eyes and say, “You’re going to be such a good father.” I typically smiled, nodded and particularly enjoyed the sex that night.

I’m not sure there is any real basis for an extrapolation of current behavior, depth, compassion and general “good with kids-ness” that automatically leads one to being an exceptional father. There is, however, a very real projection from you to me that hopes I will be a good father because good fathers are like gold. What is most notable to me is that what I think so many project onto others when it comes to the “fatherly” vibe is just that, a vibe; an energy.

The Father Archetype is something I feel I have connected with for many years. It is an embodiment of kindness, patience, strength, understanding, wisdom, depth, presence and availability. In fact, it is not difficult to confuse the Father Archetype with simply the best of the MALE energy. Simply being a solid, self-realized man is what so many people hope to find in the man with whom they are in a relationship, studying with, learning from, working for, or, yes, co-parenting.

Which brings me back to Christmas. The realization I had about Christmas is the same that helped me relax about Father’s Day. When you wish me a happy anything, you are initiating a connection, offering kindness and most of all, you are attempting to place me inside of your utopic world of understanding and the way things should be.

You want to live in a world where everyone celebrates Christmas because you love it so much and want me to be a part of it. You wish me a Happy Father’s Day because you love being a father and want me to love it to. You want me to be the kind of father you think I would be because you want to be that kind of father or be connected to that kind of father.

Sure, some of you are just so self-absorbed that you fail to accept that not everyone believes what you believe or has chosen the same life choices you have chosen. I used to think that you all occupied this category but I see now that it isn’t that simple. In fact, at this point, I’m pretty honored that you feel I embody the qualities that make a good, strong, father figure.

So, wish me a Happy Father’s Day. In fact, you can call me Dad if you like. I’ll simply sit here and smile patiently, nodding and holding the space with a quiet strength that exudes FATHER.