on toughness
It’s Father Day here in the United States. My father is very handy and has built many things over the years, ranging from practical to beautiful; my thumbnail today is a picture of he and I putting the final coat of paint on the bookshelf we made together 30 years ago. It’s simple and classic in design; made of real wood; and, most importantly, symbolizes a lot of things -his ability to see what was important to me (reading/learning), the importance he saw in increasing my skills, and the value he places on creating things. I treasure both the piece itself and the memory he helped make for us; with each passing year, that appreciation deepens.
When I think about the word “fatherhood” the words protector, teacher, and provider instinctively pop into my head; given our evolution as a species, this makes sense. But I lament the impact that the conditioning many of our boys and young men go through in the modern world. They are told they must be “tough” and vulnerability is often shamed.
I’m currently reading Steve Magness’s Do Hard Things: Why We Get Resiliance Wrong and the Surpising Sources of Real Toughness. As the title suggests, Magness challenges the popular messaging we hear around toughness, succintly stating, “Our definition of toughness in the broader world is broken. We’ve confused it with callousness and machismo, of being manly and stoic.” He goes on to claim, “…real toughness is experiencing discomfort or distress, leaning in, paying attention, and creating space to take thoughtful action. It’s maintaining a clear head to be able to make the appropriate decision. Toughness is navigating discomfort to make the best decision you can.”
It’s a beautiful definition that can apply to both genders and research increasingly shows this model is more effective than the axiom of “Suck it up.”
I salute all of the fathers out there, especially those who are working to break generational cycles and give something different than what they were given. Parenthood is the single most challenging job any human can have (and I say that as someone who is not one). If you are lucky to have a good relationship with your father, I encourage you to think about something specific that you have appreciation for and thank him. If you have a challenging or nonexistent relationship with your father, I hope you know your pain, anger, or longing is valid; but I also hope you can remember that your father likely also had tremendous pain and was doing the best with the tools he had at the time.
As for myself: Dad, thank you for giving me the space and grace to stumble and fall but always being there when I asked for help. You armed me with the knowledge that consistency will produce results (though it has taken me years to put that into practice) and encouraged me to follow my bliss, even when it wasn’t the path everyone else was following. Above all, you saw me fully before I could even see myself. Your bohemian child thanks you from the bottom of her heart.
As we head into this week, what’s one way you can flip the script on toughness? How often do you chide yourself to “suck it up”? Where’s one area you can pull back and pay attention and get curious rather than merely forcing your way through?
Be well, beautiful people.
