A Longing for Loving Connection

We were on our way back hiking down the mountain when I shared something with my friends that I hadn't ever shared with them before. The fact that I was molested as a child by my first stepfather. 

They were quiet for a moment, then apologetic and comforting. Even though I had written about it here in this space, it wasn't something I had ever told them directly. I had told Robby a long time ago, my best friend who passed away recently, but I guess it was easier to write about it over the years, and discuss during therapy, than talk about it with my friends. 

We've told each other a lot of things over the years, just not this, but I trusted my friends and felt it was time to be vulnerable and share this traumatic life experience with them. We continued to walk down the hill in silence after I shared this experience, and then one of them said:

"So, I guess you really can point to the place on the doll where he touched you."

Awkward laughter. Relief. Release. And yet another inappropriate exchange between dear friends of 45+ years. But we do care for each other and share a close brotherly love, through all the years of relentless teasing and non-family friendly humor. We shared a lot over the years, warts and all (but not genital warts -- that's a joke, kids). 

This hike we took was part of a recent weekend spent grieving and celebrating our friendships and relationships with each other and our dear friend, Robby. We started planning a memorial for him and put a long playlist together in his honor (which we're targeting for May 31 in Visalia, CA). Music has always been a big part of our lives and each of his adding songs that impacted our lives and his was a lot of fun and cathartic. Thank goodness we've invested in these connective-tissue times together over the years that has deepened our bonds. 

Because unfortunately, too many of us are lonely and depressed these days. According to the Centers for Disease Control (CDC), about 1 in 3 adults in the U.S. report feeling lonely. And about 1 in 4 U.S. adults report not having social and emotional support. 

According to another article specifically on male loneliness: 

Research conducted in 2021 by the American Survey Center reported that 15% of men claim they have no close friends, a 12% increase since 1990. Additionally, Equimundo published a study in 2023 that found a majority of men from Millennials to Gen Z agree with the statement, “No one really knows me well.” In the same publication, a majority of the men said they only have one or two close friends they feel comfortable confiding in outside their family.

And the research goes on and on and it impacts all generations and backgrounds. Unfortunately, too many men turn to toxic masculinity, deriding women and other marginalized groups as a way to deflect from the turmoil and loneliness inside that desperately longs empathic love and support. As I wrote in one of my recent articles, I grew up with an abusive birth father and stepfather and swore that I would never be that way. 

I've struggled with my own loneliness and depression over the years, unable to express how I feel and ask for what I need, but eventually I become an empathic advocate and an ally for men and women alike. My wife has been my greatest advocate and whose friendship I'm deeply grateful for. She's helped me normalize love and empathy in my life, and in turn, I've done the same with our children and my friends. 

But it's these recent times I've spent with my friends, including before Robby passed, that reminded me of how grateful I've been to have these and many other positive male friendships. Even when we don't talk see each other very often, we check in with texts and occasional calls. Each of us talked with Robby at least once a week in recent years.

I hope our children find these types of positive and supportive friendships that are meaningful and nonjudgmental, that make space for vulnerability and understanding, especially when loneliness and depression blinds the heart's optimism and a longing for loving connection. 

Other past posts about and related to these friends of mine:

• Superman's Love Letter
• Men of An Influencer Age
• Making a Dent
• Men of a Stand-up Age
• Men of a Vulnerable Age
• Endless Possibilities Actually
• Able-Bodied Grateful
• Men of Our Present Age
• The #MeToo Guys
• Men of a Women's Age
• Men of a Consequential Age
• Grown Men Friends and Fathers
• Like Men Knowingly Bound to Their Future
• Because That's How It Works With The Guys That Work
• Big Heart Love to My Class of 1984
• Men of An Unremarkable Age
• Being What Happens Next
• Daddy Day in Monterey

Lighting Up With Love And Grace

The plan was to throw her a big party when she turned 50, just like she did for me. That one was so much fun: it was the eve of the18th anniversary of when my wife Amy and I met, and our 12th anniversary of marriage. We held it in the banquet room of one of our favorite Mexican restaurants at the time. Friends and family alike were there and we had booked the local iconic Surfing Magician perform for the kids and the adults at my party.

Then last year, the pandemic hit, and everything was never the same. We went out to dinner for Amy's birthday then, the last time at that time we could do something like that for months. 

A year later, things are finally improving. After the tragic loss of over 500,000 people, more people are now getting vaccinated for COVID-19. Cases are going down in many areas, including our own. Our two daughters may be going to back to some in-person school soon; they've been in distance learning for nearly a year now. No matter what, we're grateful because we've been safe and well. We're grateful that we would've been in the position to even have another birthday party. 

However, when we entered 2021, it was clear that there would be no big party for Amy. No Surfing Magician, no friends and family, no carefree laughter. In a country that continues to buckle under the crazy strain of conspiracy theories, the big election fraud lie, the Capitol insurrection on January 6 (which continues to haunt and anger me), the anti-maskers who jeopardize health and safety, there are still so many people struggling financially and with their emotional and psychological health and safety. So many people feeling helpless and alone. 

This is why I'm so proud of my wife and the work that she does. And not just the work she does teaching safety skills to kids and teens at Kidpower or the work she's done on the PTA for our grade school. I'm proud of how she's helped to keep our daughters healthy and sane these past 12 months. How she's helped organize our family-friend pod so the girls could continue to see and play with some of their friends while giving the parents a little free time each week. How she continues to reach out to friends and family to check in with them, sometimes across great ideological divides. How she set up a regular Zoom call with family to reconnect, to play games and share carefree laughter. 

My wife inspires me every day to be better. To lead with eyes of love and acceptance, something I have done and can do quite readily, until I don't do it, defeated. But I keep coming back, and she's there to love me, always.

She deserved to have a celebration of her life at 50. So, I did the next best thing we could do during a pandemic. Set up a surprise Zoom call birthday party for her. For nearly two months I invited old and new friends, family, colleagues and other special people in her life to a virtual celebration on her birthday. I tried to contact everyone I thought should be invited, although I'm sure I missed some people. For those who could make the call, I loved watching Amy light up with love and grace as she talked to each and every person, taking the time to introduce them all. And then, the lighting up with love and grace culminated at dinner with our dear family-friend pod and lots of carefree laughter. 

Happy Birthday, my love. I am grateful for you, always. 

Our Fairy Daughter-Mother

"If we go down then we go down together
We'll get away with everything
Let's show them we are better..."

-The Chainsmokers, Paris

We couldn't wait to fly to Paris. No kids, no jobs, no other responsibilities other than our pets that would be taken care of by both our parents. We'd be gone for nearly two months, traveling through Europe, stopping along the way in Internet cafes to email our families about our trip.

At the time, we were never going to have children, and our families, especially mine, didn't understand why. We were seen as selfish for not wanting children, causing a low-level reciprocal resentment between us and my family.

And we were selfish about our lives -- because they were our lives -- and we lived them exactly how we wanted to live them. Unapologetically. Although, my familial guilt nagged at me a lot more than my wife, Amy.

It would be years and a lot of other interrelated family drama later before we changed our minds about having children. Our choice. Our terms. Our love evolving into our own blossoming family, with Beatrice first, followed by Bryce nearly two years later. Some of our past family frozen tundra thawed, and life moved on with various family gatherings here and there, holidays and other days throughout the year.

Even more interrelated family drama later we've made a concerted effort to see and speak with much of our families throughout the year whenever we can. And the "we" in this equation is really singular, the fact that families tend to have specific individuals, usually female, the moms in my experience, who stay connected with extended family, wherever they are in the world. My mom prided herself in doing that until she died, always ensuring loving communication with even the most distant members on birthdays, holidays, graduations, weddings, anniversaries -- the endless mesh of life events from childhood to the elder years.

My sister continues to carry some of this responsibility, as does my wife, much more so than me. In fact, I've never really been very good at keeping in touch with extended family over time. It's not that I don't care, I do. It's just that I default to the moms in my life, especially my wife who keeps our extended family fires burning. It's been easier that way. Sadly I am that lazy gender stereotype at times who, in his head, claims to be too busy to do the outreach work.

And yet, there's a new champion in our family for family, one that came on unexpectedly, especially since she doesn't see our families that much, but is always asking about them, always wanting to see them and/or talk with them via iPad, phone, text or in person when possible. That's our oldest, Beatrice. Bryce loves to see family too, but she's too much like her dad, the occasional grumpster who doesn't always want to see or talk with folks, who's too "busy", and who defaults to the Mama to manage all that stuff.

Beatrice -- a caring, compassionate child. An empathic old soul. Our fairy daughter-mother who wants us to be better as a family for our family.

Happy Mother's Day to you, my child.