This Is Worth the Risk

How To Reconnect With a Deadbeat Dad

When you open yourself up and are courageous enough to be vulnerable in public, you become a beacon to other fellow travelers—you can inspire people to make a change in their lives. It took me decades to become comfortable enough in my own skin to discuss many of the most sensitive parts of my past, even amongst friends, so doing so publicly was a stretch.

However, what I discovered was that sharing my story has allowed me to help others who were struggling with abandonment—the same kind of alienation that I’ve wrestled with forever.

I spoke recently on a “Fathers Panel” at the Moms for Liberty conference alongside other notable public figures who are proud fathers. While on stage, I opened up about how not having a present father taught me what not to become… how not to act when I became a Dad myself.

A low bar—sure—but this was a big first step for me in fatherhood, and a silent acknowledgment I made while holding my son in my arms for the first time.

We Long for This Connection (Risk Be Damned)

A young man approached me after the panel because he appreciated what I had said on stage and how open I was about growing up without my father.

The young man is about 18 years old, and his father had been out of his life until recently, when his father began trying to contact him to build a relationship. This young man described meeting up with him and said that hanging out with his father was weird—not because his father did something negative, but because the man was essentially a stranger.

Blood bonds only go so far. DNA doesn’t compel you to open up with a man you don’t know.

He was hesitant to move forward with interacting with his father and wanted my advice on what he should do. This is a tough one.

I always start with the idea that every child innately desires a relationship with their biological parents; it’s a baked-in longing. So, why would this young man withdraw from something he’s wanted since he was a small child?

Easy: The answer is fear of being hurt again. Fathers like this walk out, walk back in, and often walk right out again.

It’s On Them, Not You

When he asked me this question, I told him that he was afraid of being emotionally put out by his father, and he confirmed that this was a real concern for him.

True love, a deep and special one, can only happen if you’re vulnerable enough to be hurt. Call it cheesy romcom advice if you want, but it’s true. You have to risk being hurt to build a loving relationship with anyone, including an estranged father.

This young man should not have any illusions about the risks; his father may disappoint him by disappearing again on him—for whatever reason.

This could happen, but it’s not your fault.

Another person’s failings say nothing about you.

Yet we easily embrace the opposite narrative.

Live Life Openly, There Are Rewards

I’ve said several times in front of audiences, and even wrote in my book, that if my father were alive and contacted me with sincerity… I’d allow for the possibility of a new relationship with him.

The last time I talked to my father, I was 21, and I was the one who reached out to him, shortly after my son was born. I never got to tell him about his grandson because he sounded as if I was bothering him—there was no shred of happiness in his voice to hear from his only son.

He wasn’t looking for the thing I was looking for. People are like that.

I told myself I wasn’t going to try this again, but if he ever called, I would answer. However, unlike for this young man, that call never came.

I’ve been fortunate enough to talk to regretful fathers who made huge mistakes in the past, and sometimes they don’t reach out because they’re just as afraid of being rejected by their children. They think it’s too late to apologize and live out their days in torment as a self-imposed punishment.

This is not the way.

We ended our conversation with a hug, and I handed him a copy of my book, asking him to follow up with me about his situation.

The following day, as I was boarding my flight back home, he sent me a message saying he’d reached out to his father and agreed to spend some time with him. His father was excited. That’s about all you ask for. You have to give it a shot.

I’m so thankful for opportunities like this to help a young man embrace his father with grace in his heart. Being vulnerable can be scary, but it’s well worth it if you help even one aching soul begin to heal.