A Lesson From My Daughter — You’ll Get There, Daddy

She’s much more intelligent than me…

I’m obsessed with watching award shows. I can’t help it. The Grammy’s, Oscars, American Music Awards, JUNO Awards; I’m hooked. And I don’t just watch them, I make a big deal of these shows. I’m talking watching the red carpet, tweeting; yeah, it’s an event.

That means alcohol, usually mango or some other kind of chopped-up fruit for a snack, and me inviting people over and forcing them to endulge with me. Ridiculous, I know, but like I said, I can’t help myself.

The last occasion was the Giller Prize. The main culprit — my 15-year-old daughter. We’re sitting on the couch. She’s half interested but attentive enough to notice when my mood starts changing. I’m quiet, not commenting on any of the finalists as they read short passages from their novels.

So she asks me what’s the matter. I go into baby mode and tell her “nothing.” My daughter is resilient, though (or annoying), and finally squeezes an explanation out of me.

The funny thing is, as much as I love award shows, wathing them gives me this, “what am I doing with my life,” kinda feeling. I feel like I’m in direct competition with all of them, no matter the genre of award show, and I’m losing. Most of the time I can smile through it, but when the Giller Prize comes on, there’s no faking.

I want to be there. I want to be on the stage with those authors who are being celebrated as the best in our country. It drives me crazy that I’m on my couch instead of in the venue. It’s to the point now where I actually get anxiety.

I tell my daughter a version of this story and instead of laughing at me, she actually takes it seriously. She says, “daddy, imagine you’re in a race with Usain Bolt. You’re probably going to lose the race, but you’ll still get to the finish line. You’ll both end up at the same place.”

No sarcasm, no placating, just some real life advice from a teenager to her over ambitious father. And I heard her loud and clear. Because really, even though I force myself to believe otherwise, I’m not in any kind of race. My circumstances are unique to my life and my time shouldn't be negotiated by those who I have declared as “winners.” It’s actually kind of…childish.

So from here on out, I’m going to try my best not to compare. I’m going to chill out a little bit and remind myself that I’m in my own lane. Time shouldn’t force my decisions or guide my emotions. I’ll cross the finish line soon enough.

C.R.Y

A Lesson From My Daughter — You’ll Get There, Daddy was originally published in C.R.Y on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.