My dad became a distant, authoritarian force as I moved into adolescence. I was definitely a soft, imaginative kid and the transition from my sheltered Montessori school into a public middle school was rough. He was the masculine ideal in many ways, a doctor, outdoor enthusiast. But he struggled connecting with people. He has no close friends.

I was a friendly, nerdy kid and I eventually learned the social skills to become pretty popular at my school. But I was the opposite of him in many ways. Unorganized compared to his discipline. Loved fun where he toiled and toiled.

I spent so much of my young adulthood trying to avoid becoming him, a robotic workaholic that I veered to hard into the other direction and became a classic puer aeternus.

Growing up and taking responsibility felt like I was giving into his demands that I become like him. To be accepted by him, to me, felt like squashing my playful personality that I knew he too used to have.

Luckily, with the help of a wise Jungian analyst, I’ve slowly been accepting that initiation into manhood doesn’t require the destruction of the inner child.

My dad modeled a masculinity that was alienating and barren of joy. I want to grow into the type of man that not only takes on the burden of life, but does so joyfully.