Making Peace with My Father

Some wounds take a lifetime to understand—and a moment of grace to forgive.

Do you have a complicated relationship with one or both of your parents? Oh, I get it. Truly—I do.

My father and I were like oil and water.

As a child, I often felt hurt by him. I never felt fully accepted, and I certainly didn’t feel understood. If I said something was black, he’d insist it was white. I struggled to find common ground. On the worst days, I felt judged.

Our strained relationship shaped much of my adult life. It impacted how I saw men and how fiercely I clung to my independence. I was determined to make my own money, have my own voice, and never let a man control me. 

(For those who are curious, this photo was taken at my third wedding, when I was still trying to force-fit the fairy tale so I could have a child.)

Unfortunately, childhood wounds don’t fade with time—they echo. I now see how deeply they influenced my romantic choices and how long I carried the weight of that hurt.

When I told my parents I planned to become a foster parent, my father wasn’t supportive. His disapproval stung. And when the foster child I loved was taken from me, I resented that—on some level—he was right.

Then he was diagnosed with aggressive, terminal prostate cancer.

In the final weeks of his life, we had a conversation I’ll never forget. I told him I was going to pursue IVF so I could have a child no one could take away.

To my surprise, he said, “I think this IVF thing is going to work out for you, Cher Bear. And I’m so sad to miss it.”

That moment cracked something open in me.

For the first time, I saw my father through a different lens.

I realized:

• Much of his criticism was him trying to protect me.

• We clashed largely because we were so much alike.

• The traits I disliked in him were often the ones I struggled with in myself.

And in that clarity, I found peace.

Forgiving him helped me see the gifts he passed along to me:

• He was the source of my ambition and persistence.

• I inherited his loyalty and dry humor.

• And most of all, he gave me his generous heart.

These traits became essential qualities for my mission of motherhood. Ironically, I have my dad to thank for it.

This Father’s Day, I choose to honor the blessings I got from my dad. To celebrate the best of what he gave me, even if our journey wasn’t easy.

If you’ve had a complicated relationship with a parent, I’d love to hear your reflections.

What have you learned through that experience? What positive things did they give you? What healing, if any, has come with time?

Let’s hold space for all kinds of “father stories” this weekend—the close ones, the strained ones, and the ones still unfolding. All of them have something to teach us.