When My Son Said 'I'm Not Good Enough for You Daddy'

I was trying every trick in the book. I knew what upset him, at least I thought I did, and I wanted to hear it from him.

I had blown it.

He wouldn’t share his feelings. He kept them locked up tight.

Side note, but he gets that from me. It’s one of those traits you wish could have skipped a generation, but it didn’t.

I spent decades burying stuff down deep, and it’s taken years to climb out of the emotional hole I dug.

So it kills me when I see him doing it. He’s only 6.

“Buddy, it’s ok you can tell me. I know I hurt your feelings, and I’m so sorry.”

Didn’t work.

Not until right before bed, he softens then. The guard comes down.

Momma got him to spill it. To open up.

I had gotten on him at baseball practice. He wasn’t listening to me. He wasn’t doing the things I was coaching him to do.

Not ok by him for sure, but then I got frustrated.

And chewed him a little bit. Saying things about listening to your coach, I’m not just your dad out here, blah blah.

He’s a sensitive one, and it embarrassed him. I knew it did.

So at night, when momma got him to open up, he let us know the feelings finally.

And it made me cringe.

“I’m just not good enough for daddy.”

I wasn’t all-world at baseball, all-anything for that matter, but I played it all my life.

In a bad way at times, it was my identity.

I’ve never forced him to pick up a baseball or swing a bat, but I’m sure in the few moments I’ve blown it with him, he feels like he’s not measuring up.

Ugh. How brutal.

And of course it’s not how I feel towards him.

I got down in his bed and threw my arms around him and said some version of:

“Buddy, I couldn’t care less if you ever play baseball again. Don’t play this game for me. I’m the one not good enough for you bro. All I wanted was for you to listen. Will you forgive daddy?”

He’s good enough for me because he’s mine. Not because of a sport he feels like he’s got to perform in to earn my love.