by Meg Meeker
Frustrated as wives can be with husbands who are program-driven, goal-oriented, and task-solving, men have these qualities for a reason. It is a father’s programs, goals, and actions that can make the difference in solving a daughter’s problems.
Teach Her to Use Grit
When we think of masculine men, we (women at least) envision those with one overriding quality: a spine of steel. Nothing makes a woman’s heart melt like a man with courage and resolve. We admire men who are willing to risk their lives to help good triumph over evil and who have the moral wit to distinguish between the two. Masculinity means strength. You see it in the way men work. Men in construction start their jobs early and end them late. Soldiers in Iraq risk their lives every day. Pilots continue to fly in spite of personal fear. Men in high finance are often highly charged, deeply driven, and propel themselves through hard work to success. Men work with such intensity because they have grit. Sometimes you can have so much grit, so much hard-driving, so much silent internalizing of frustration and stress that it can kill you.
But that’s in the workplace. Now think about your home life. Here is your place of quiet and solace: a friendly family dog and a doting wife and daughters. Don’t you wish?
Home is work too, because just as people need you to do things at work, your wife and your daughters need you to do things at home. Not just fixing things around the house, but being the man they need you to be. That can sometimes mean intervening in their disputes and helping them solve their problems.
Pragmatism helps men find solutions to problems, and grit enables you to apply these solutions day after day, year after year. These two qualities teach your daughters how to do the same.
After the first two months of first grade, Doug noticed that Gretchen’s enthusiasm about school was waning. She stopped wanting to practice her reading. She cried when she went off to school in the morning. He scheduled a time to meet with her teacher. “She’s a lovely girl,” her teacher informed him. “I just don’t understand. She does excellent work in class.” Doug was dumbfounded.
Whenever he talked to Gretchen about school, she said she hated it. She didn’t like her teacher. Her teacher was mean. She made kids read out loud whether they wanted to or not, and she wouldn’t let kids go to the bathroom when they needed to. Doug thought that these were problems, but not serious ones that would make a kid not want to go to school. His wife, Julie, worried that something bigger was going on. “Maybe she’s depressed, maybe she has dyslexia or someone is humiliating her at school,” she told Doug. She wanted to take her to a psychiatrist. They argued about what to do. What exactly was the problem? Was it school, was it the teacher, was it a bully in her class, or was she struggling with ADHD or depression? They went to the Internet. Julie became convinced Gretchen was depressed and needed help, maybe even medication.
Doug decided to do some detective work. Periodically, during his lunch hour, he would go to Gretchen’s school and walk past her classroom. He listened to what was going on inside. Sure enough, he heard her teacher tell one student to shut up and yell at another to sit down and be quiet, “or else.”
He went to the principal and complained. Julie went to the teacher and scolded her for treating the children badly. The teacher stayed on and her behavior didn’t change. Apparently other parents had complained too, to no effect. Julie wanted to send Gretchen to another school. Gretchen wanted to leave.
But Doug told Julie he wanted to try something else first. Give him six weeks, he said. She relented. Doug informed Gretchen that he would take her to school from now on: she wasn’t going to take the bus anymore. She liked that. “I wanted a little more time with her before she left for school,” he said, but I think he had more up his sleeve.
On their car rides, they talked. “Honey,” Doug said, “you have one really bad teacher in your class. I’m sorry. It must be frustrating and scary.”
“It’s horrible, Daddy. I don’t know why you make me keep going! Mommy says I don’t have to. Take me home, I don’t want to go school,” Gretchen would say.
Morning after morning their conversations continued along these lines. Doug was the voice of realism and accepting that life can’t always be perfect. Yes, the teacher had no business teaching first grade. Yes, she had a temper and she said things that she shouldn’t say, but, he told Gretchen, you can handle it. “She’s a mean lady,” he agreed, “but you need to think about what you can do to make going to school and attending her class better.”
At first Gretchen wouldn’t answer him when he said that. But gently, over the next few weeks, he kept telling Gretchen that it was up to her to improve things in class. Finally, she began coming up with ideas. “I could raise my hand less, Daddy, but do you think that would make her mad?”
“Or,” she continued, “Mom and me could make fun lunches every day. And maybe I could go to resource room during math!” Gretchen and Doug schemed. They thought of serious things and silly things. Gretchen had fun just coming up with ideas.
Here’s the point. While Julie wanted to yank Gretchen from the classroom and spare her the hardship, Doug wanted to teach her that she could deal with it. He wanted her to know that, in tough situations, there are many things that won’t change. He told her it was unrealistic to expect that her teacher would stop yelling or be nicer. But there are always things that she can do to make things better. He wanted her—even as young as the first grade—to understand the famous prayer, “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” Gretchen did just that.
Did she like first grade? No. But she developed character. She learned how to stay in a tough spot and act, and not just be a passive victim. Did her father tell her, coldly, to just shut up, stop complaining, and behave? No. He listened to her, he sized up the situation, and agreed with how she felt. He told her that she was right to feel upset. But then he helped her find solutions. They worked together and little Gretchen learned how to not just endure, but to thrive during a difficult time. Sure, it would have been easier if Gretchen had simply switched schools. But Doug took the extra time and extra work to build Gretchen’s character because he knew it was what she needed.
Many of you men who are extraordinary at performing, thinking, and reasoning at work come home exhausted, and all the skills you practice every day on the job evaporate once you come home. While grit keeps you moving forward at work, at home you may become a pushover or simply disengaged. Dads, you must have grit at home too. Home life requires just as much tenacious engagement as work does. So consciously spare some energy at work.
I am convinced that if fathers recruited even 20 percent of the intellectual, physical, mental, and even emotional energy they spend at work and applied it to their relationships at home, we would live in an entirely different country. I’m not referring to coming home and doing more chores around the house, the yard, or at your kids’ schools. I’m talking about truly engaging with your family as a husband and father. Much of what you can do for your daughter is simply to engage her in conversation and listen. Men often talk little, but they listen more. Your problem-solving brain can analyze what your daughter tells you, and you can help her think of ways to smooth over volatile situations.
Nowhere is your masculine strength and manly grit more needed than at home. The greatest difficulties, joys, and pains of life aren’t at your job, they’re with your family. Your masculinity either shines or loses its luster at home, and what you do there can be the difference between keeping a loving family together and watching it drift apart or crumble. You can’t maintain a good relationship with your wife or daughters if you’re never home. You can’t maintain a good relationship with your wife or daughters unless you’re there for them. I know you might not want to, but this is where you need to show your grit. You need to stay and listen and navigate female frustrations and hostility. We—daughters, mothers, and wives—need you to stay, to bring your co
urageous, goal-oriented reason that provides solutions.
Some of you dads might find yourselves right in the middle of a conflict between your daughter and your wife. When women argue, emotions fly, doors slam, and conversations can become venomous. And you feel torn between your love for your wife and your love for your daughter. But in such conflicts, fathers are often the perfect arbiters, putting emotion aside and being the voice of reason. I know it’s not always easy to do that. Some situations are complex and fraught with volatile feelings.
For example, when a mother dies or leaves home and a father is left to raise his daughters alone, he has difficulty figuring out what to do and what to say in the normal challenges of everyday life. But more difficult is the challenge to help his daughter grieve for the loss of her mother while he grieves for the loss of his marriage. If you eventually remarry, the stresses on your relationships can be redoubled. Stepmother troubles with daughters are particularly common. While every father has within him the tools necessary to handle such stressful situations, here are a few things to remember.
First, remember that you and your daughter were together before you and your new wife. In your daughter’s eyes, she has more right to you than your new wife does. If she feels her relationship with you is threatened, she will take her anger out on your new wife. So be very careful. Give your daughter all the time she needs to adjust before you bring a new woman into your home. Remember that your daughter needs you more than your new wife does. You are your daughter’s lifeline; you are not your wife’s lifeline. When your daughter is an adult, your allegiance can shift to your wife. But at least until she is twenty-one, your daughter’s needs have to come first. I know this is tough advice, but if you follow it, your life will be simpler and easier, and you can end up with a happy daughter and a good new marriage.
Second, let your daughter grieve. Sometimes men become so pragmatic that they forget to feel, and forget that others need to work through emotions. Grieving for the loss of her mother is a very healthy and important process for a daughter. Simply telling your fourteen-year-old to buck up and get on with life four months after her mother is gone is cruel—and it won’t help. In fact, it will make your daughter disconnect from you and become angry and bitter. One of the biggest problems girls encounter after a mother dies or leaves the family is ungrieved loss, especially if their father later falls in love with another woman. It is natural for your daughter to feel angry about her loss, to feel mad at God for allowing it, and even bitter that you didn’t stop her mother from leaving or dying. She can, for a while, feel angry, mad, and bitter about everything and everyone. This is completely healthy and normal. Once this passes, she will begin to come to grips with the profound sadness she feels inside. She will cry, perhaps withdraw for a time, or become sullen. Her emotions can become tangled as she feels anger and sadness at the same time. Finally, she will come to accept that life is the way it is, and, if you have helped her along the way, she will feel hope. She will begin to be able to look forward to a new life.
But here’s what frequently happens when a new wife or girlfriend appears on the scene. Your daughter’s grieving process is interrupted. This can feel devastating to girls—they can feel betrayed. And, honestly, some girls simply can’t deal with a new woman around, at least not without the passage of time and the assurance that they still come first with you. If you want to remarry and have a successful family life, you simply must give your daughter time to complete her grieving. Otherwise, your daughter might never get along with your second wife.
Third, remember that she’s the kid and your new wife is the adult. Ask more from your new wife than from your daughter. Your new wife should be able to handle it (and if she can’t, find that out before you marry her, because it’s a warning sign). It is common for daughters to feel jealous of a new wife, even common for them to have a strong and irrational dislike of everything about her. Your new wife can inadvertently feed these feelings.
Some new wives want no trace of your first wife around. They want to be the center of the family and don’t want to be compared to your first wife. They feel threatened and insecure. So, a bit of advice, not only for your daughter, but for you: if your girlfriend can’t be comfortable talking about and accepting your first wife as the mother of your daughter, you should end the relationship. If you don’t, it could tear your family apart.
Many men become so wrapped up in their own grief that they choose to marry or date women they never would have chosen in any other situation. So please give yourself time to grieve and adjust, and only then think about new romance. This is just as important for your potential second wife as for you and your daughter.
Theresa was an only child. Her parents adored her. When Theresa was in the second grade, her mother was diagnosed with a very aggressive form of breast cancer. In spite of chemotherapy, surgery, and radiation, she deteriorated rapidly. Within a year, Theresa’s mother was dead. Theresa was nine years old. She sat at her mother’s funeral cold, pale, and rigid. Her father, Brad, was in so much grief that he sought help from friends and from a counselor. He took Theresa to a grief counselor too. He did this for six months, and it didn’t seem to help. The counselor told him that Theresa was unresponsive and that Brad was wasting his money on the sessions.
Theresa went to school, came home, went to her room, and shut the door. There, on her pink bedspread, she cried hour after hour. She spoke infrequently to her father. And she never spoke about her mother. She even took her mother’s pictures down, which upset Brad.
Within twelve months of her mother’s death, Brad began dating a new woman. Since Theresa rarely spoke to him, Brad was desperate for company. He hadn’t known this woman, Helen, before his wife died. She was organized, comforting, and brought a sense of normalcy back into his life. Whenever she came to the house, Theresa glared at her and refused to speak. After three short months of dating, the two married and Helen moved into the house. Brad and Helen both believed that once they got married and Theresa got used to Helen, she would come around and talk. She would be happy because she had a woman in the house to care for her.
Theresa made it through grade school, junior high, and the early high school years fairly well. She never seemed really happy, but at least she could be cordial to Helen and her father. Besides, she said, her father demanded that she be courteous to Helen. This was the way life is now, he told her, and she just had to accept it. He had needs too, he let her know, and he could help her a lot more as a father if he were happy.
But Helen struggled. She had her own two children, who were grown. She talked to them every day on the phone. She wasn’t as pretty as Theresa’s mother had been and she was uncomfortable with Brad talking about things he and his first wife had done together. She silenced talk about his first wife, and even when Theresa referred to her mother, Helen reminded her that that life was over. She was there now. She was the new woman in the home. She wanted to be spoken to with respect and she wanted Theresa to understand that it was good for Brad to be shared between the two of them. Helen was hotheaded, and as Theresa grew into her teen years, she lost her temper with her. She called her names and swore at her. Theresa came to hate her stepmother. She told her father what Helen would say to her in his absence. Brad tried to tell Helen that she needed to get along with Theresa, but Helen responded by berating him for having such a disrespectful daughter. The house became an emotional minefield. Finally, during her junior year in high school, Theresa ran away. She hated her stepmother and swore she would never come home as long as Helen was there.
Brad handled this terrible situation with determination, pragmatism, and grit. First, he recognized that even though Theresa looked like a grown woman, drove a car, held a job, and paid some bills, she was still, in some ways, a crying grade-schooler who missed her mother; she had never completed her grief at losing her. Brad realized that Theresa had needed more time than he had given her. So he began spending more time with her. Even though she wouldn’t come
home, he met her at a friend’s house, they met for coffee, they even went away once for a weekend. He gave himself back to Theresa. Helen fought him. She demanded that whenever Brad was with Theresa, she should go along because Theresa needed to accept her.
Brad didn’t abandon his wife, but he politely insisted on having time alone with Theresa. Helen was furious, but Brad told her that was the way things were going to be. She had to deal with it because she was a grown-up and Theresa was a kid. Many insecure second wives refuse to let a husband spend time alone with his children from the previous marriage. Fathers, don’t let this happen. You need to be strong, like Brad, because your children really do need time alone with you.
Slowly, Theresa began warming up to her father. Interestingly, he said, the closer she got to him, the more agitated she seemed sometimes. She had never acted that way before and he was confused. His counselor told him that this was a good sign. Theresa was more comfortable with him, and that meant more comfortable in sharing her emotions. She felt closer to him emotionally, she felt more secure, and she no longer feared he would abandon her (as her mother’s death had made her feel abandoned) if she opened up about her feelings. For two years they talked about her mother; they cried and they argued, and they talked about things the three of them had done together. During this process, Brad noticed that Theresa’s grades improved. She eventually started coming over to the house for dinner. And three months before she graduated from high school, she moved back home. She never really warmed up to Helen, but that was all right, she said. She felt that she had her dad back. He even apologized to Theresa for marrying so quickly. He was bereft, he told her. He had felt crazy with grief and he couldn’t think straight. Theresa forgave him.