The letter I’m scared to write: on dads, sons and vulnerability

The idea for this article came to me when I was reading the incredible Letters to Our Sons by Orly Klein (Psychologist) and Stephen Graham (actor and co-creator of the TV show Adolescence). It is a collection of letters from a wide-ranging group of dads (“from bin men to barristers”) to their sons. It took until page four before I was mopping away the tears that were rolling down my cheeks. It really is quite a special book.

Besides the obvious emotional content of personal letters from fathers to their sons, it got me thinking about some other themes that I took from the concept of the book.

The weight of responsibility

Thankfully, the view of what a man and a father “should be” is starting to change and develop away from the traditional view of the “strong, silent provider”. Men are increasingly encouraged to talk about their feelings, to express themselves outwardly in different ways, and many more men are now choosing to take a more active role in childcare and the home rather than being the traditional “breadwinner”.

However, the traditional societal legacy of the role of the father cannot be shaken off that easily, and that is part of what can lead to the very heavy weight of responsibility on the shoulders of dads. 

Many men still live under a cloud of expectation where feelings are there to be shamed, fixed or ignored, and this can lead to distress (like anger, numbness or withdrawal) coming out sideways, like someone stomping on a big old tin of baked beans.

Our sons and our own fathers

We cannot help but draw parallels between the relationship with our fathers and the relationship our sons have with us. Whatever the relationship we hold with our own fathers, there is very often a spectrum of complexity, and rarely is this “all good” or “all bad”.

Maybe we have never spoken to our own fathers about this relationship, and maybe they have never spoken to us about it. So there is little wonder that feelings around being a dad can feel utterly confusing at times.

Finding the words

It can be hard enough to even begin to identify how we feel about being a dad, let alone to start to communicate some of those feelings… let alone to communicate them to our own sons.

The complexity of a father-son love can feel overwhelming and takes a heap of vulnerability and bravery to even try to express that with words both spoken and on the page. It can be really, really scary to open up to the people we love the most because it means we must bare our souls and show the wildly imperfect, confused, complicated human beings we are.

Vulnerability

What do we actually mean when we talk about men and vulnerability? For a lot of us, the word conjures up something we’d rather avoid, such as crying in public. It could mean falling apart or breaking down and ultimately being seen as weak. However, vulnerability isn’t really about any of that. It’s about letting someone see what’s actually going on underneath rather than putting on a show of the version of ourselves we think we should be.

This could be telling a friend that you’re not coping as well as you’re making out. It might be admitting to your partner that you’re scared or saying sorry to your son without adding a “but”. None of these are grand gestures; rather, they are small moments of being honest about how we feel, and that’s exactly why they can feel so risky. There’s no script to hide behind and no way of knowing how the other person will respond. And yet it can so often be where real closeness begins.

After all that, I’m aware that the prospect of writing a letter to your own child is probably even more terrifying (definitely a topic for the next session with my therapist!), but I think I’m going to do it. After all, saying what may have been left forever unsaid, to ourselves or to others, can often be what we find the courage to do when we go to therapy. I wonder how it might feel for you to write a letter to a child, parent or loved one.

Where might we begin?

Opening up can feel daunting, and it’s worth remembering that it doesn’t have to start with a big conversation. Small steps count. Some suggestions might be to:

Start side by side

Many men find it easier to talk while doing something together, for example, in the car, on a walk or at the football. Not having to make eye contact can take some of the pressure off.

Name one feeling

“I’m knackered and a bit worried about work” is a start. You don’t need to explain it or fix it.

Say sorry without the “but”

Showing your son that you can get things wrong and own it may teach him more than getting everything right.

Write it down

A letter you never send can still help you find out what you want to say.

Notice the sideways signs

If you’re snapping more, working later or can feel yourself withdrawing, it might be worth asking what’s underneath.

How counselling can help

For some men, the hardest part is finding the words at all. Counselling can offer a confidential space to explore feelings without being judged, fixed or hurried. It can be a place to look at your relationship with your own father and perhaps think about the dad you want to be. It also offers a space to practise saying things out loud before saying them to the people who matter most.

You don’t need to arrive with the right words or a clear problem. Many people start simply with “I’m not sure why I’m here”, and that’s ok.