I was raised in an era where parents were revered as paragons of perfection. I distinctly recall asking my mother if she, like the Pope, possessed a ceremonial hat signifying her infallibility. (Apparently, sarcasm is not an endearing or respectful quality.) This childhood memory perfectly captures the cultural mindset of my generation—one where parental authority was synonymous with unerring judgment and absolute certainty.
As both a former child and a parent myself, I understand the well-intentioned reasoning behind this approach. Like many of their contemporaries, my parents believed that projecting an image of perfection would inspire their children to strive for excellence and live their best lives. This was done out of love and care. This was not unique to my family; countless friends share similar recollections of parents who seemed to exist beyond the realm of human fallibility.
Adulthood, however, has profoundly transformed my perspective on what truly matters in parenting.
The Power of Authenticity
I have come to believe that one of the most valuable gifts we can offer our children is an unvarnished view of ourselves—not as idealized figures, but as evolving individuals with our own journeys of growth. Rather than presenting a carefully curated narrative of success, children benefit immensely from witnessing the full spectrum of human experience through their parents’ lives.
This transparency teaches something far more valuable than any illusion of perfection ever could: that continuous self-improvement matters more than flawlessness. When children observe their parents navigating setbacks with resilience, adapting to new challenges with flexibility, and acknowledging mistakes with humility, they develop a framework for personal development grounded in reality rather than impossible standards.
Embracing Vulnerability in Fatherhood
This philosophy has become the cornerstone of my approach to fatherhood. When I make mistakes—and I make many—I acknowledge them openly to my children and what drove that mistake. These admissions are not exercises in self-criticism but deliberate demonstrations of accountability. I work to improve myself, not to maintain a pristine parental image but to show my children that character is not defined by avoiding failure and growing through it.
My commitment to authenticity has also provided me with a valuable lens through which to view my parental responsibility. A mentor once shared wisdom that continues to guide me: eventually, I will want to share my life story with my children. This sharing is not about self-importance but equipping them with insights from my experiences across the many roles I have played—as an individual, husband, father, friend, and leader.
Protagonist or Editor: A Crucial Choice
My mentor framed the parental choice succinctly: we can either be the imperfect hero (protagonist) of our story or assume the role of its editor. The protagonist presents an authentic account—triumphs and missteps alike—appropriately tailored to a child’s understanding. The editor, conversely, manipulates the narrative to construct an idealized, faultless image.
The danger in choosing the editor’s path is profound and far-reaching. When we sanitize our experiences for our children, we establish an unattainable standard that often leaves them feeling isolated when they inevitably face their own challenges. Children exposed only to polished versions of success usually lack the emotional resilience necessary to navigate the complexity of real life with its inherent disappointments and failures.
A Legacy of Growth Over Perfection
This is why I choose to be the imperfect protagonist of my story. I want my children to understand that life is inherently complex, that growth rarely follows a straight line, and that failures often serve as the most essential catalysts for personal development. The role of a parent, like that of any leader or friend, is not defined by an unbroken record of success but by the consistent pursuit of growth and integrity.
My deepest hope is that when my children face their inevitable struggles, they will carry this fundamental truth with them: their father was never flawless, but he was always evolving. And in that knowledge, they will find permission and inspiration to embrace their imperfect journeys of growth.