And Just Like that I’ve got a Teenaged Daughter

I’m a 43 year old man who has been married for 16 years. I have a daughter who is (I know it sounds cliché) the apple of my eye and is talented, loving, intelligent and beautiful, but recently turned thirteen… A teenager…. There lies the site of my anxiety and the reason I’m writing this today. Recently while discussing the future dating prospects with her mother, my lovely wife said these chilling words:  “Look for a man like your father.”  Now hold on this is not gonna be one of those confessionals where I admit to something and lose everything. Her advice, however well-intentioned and flattering, actually started a retrospective montage in my head that would make Spike Lee proud. I’m literally envisioning myself walking down the street with flashbacks of my many dating mishaps surrounding my head and saying to myself do I really want my daughter to find someone like me. My answer, it depends at what time. I’ll explain. My dating life was varied and eventful. I’ve often wondered what an impartial observer might think of it in total. Clarity and self-reflection has made me realize that the impression, if it were fair, would depend at what period of time they observed. I have been the perfect boyfriend, romantic suitor, the friend with benefits, the attentive and supporting husband and many other positive roles. Conversely if I’m honest there were times when I may have been described as a “dog”, a cheater, a manipulator, an irresponsible child, an inconsiderate husband and shamefully a liar. Writing it out now makes me feel a bit uncomfortable but in my defense believe it or not my intentions were always good and the mistakes I made I blamed on selfish immaturity. Each mistake has made me strive to be a stellar husband to my wife and an exceptional father to my daughter. It is the latter role which gives me restless nights, as I stated before my baby has turned thirteen. Thirteen is a “game-changer” in the over-used vernacular of the 2008 elections. Thirteen is the year that causes grown men to babble into their coffee, previously sane women to throw things at closed doors while yelling “as long as you live under my roof…” And thirteen is when all the stuff your Daddy said that you thought was corny comes pouring out of your mouth like an inevitable volcanic eruption triggered by some Pavlov-ian response imprinted on your psyche. “Cleaning the dishes means cleaning the Whooooole kitchen!”, “that’s your responsibility I shouldn’t have to tell you to do that!” ad infinitum. Thirteen means that a new variable is introduced into the equation that is our life, boys.  Thirteen years ago, “13” seemed a lifetime away. When she was first born, we spent the first half-hour of her life just us two. Her in warming bed, me staring into her wondering brown eyes, whispering to her, “Hey beautiful, I’m your Daddy.”  Eight years ago when she started school she would run at a full sprint into my arms daily yelling “Daaaadddyyyyyy!!!!” the whole way when I picked her up. Her teacher telling me how impressed she was that my baby recited, verbatim, my lecture to her about integrity.  Six years ago she amazed me with her inner strength standing up to bullies at her school for her and others even though I know she was afraid. The first inkling of a boy presence crept in or Daddy-Daughter Paradise about 2^nd grade because this boy was lingering around her during after-care. My fears were allayed because she didn’t seem to even notice him so I contented myself giving him the daddy stare.

Now, although I would rather she not grow up, I’m realistic. She will and there’s nothing I can do. So I know inevitably that my child, my baby girl, will eventually date and chose a mate. And I will experience a reckoning of sorts.  There will come a day when some boy will arrive at my door with the determined intent to date my daughter. How do I evaluate him? What do I tell her? “Look for a man like your father”, my wife advised. She really meant well but there were times where I should have been virtually un-dateable. It becomes easy for people like Steve Harvey and other so-called relationship “gurus” to label people, the player, the dog, and etcetera. The truth is much more complicated than that. And to attempt to judge a suitor for my child based on such flat and unimaginative generalizations is neither productive nor intelligent. Short of any that have committed crimes or abandoned children or destroyed their marriages, I have been almost all of the generalizations and therefore none of them. When I entered the dating pool, at 16, I was determined to be a one woman man.  By the time I was in college, I wanted to see what was out there and thought that a way to be “successful” with women was to “trick” them. [This approach was cultivated from the same learned scholars that tell you gems like you can’t get pregnant on the first time]. Later I told myself that as long as I was upfront with women whatever happened and if they were hurt was “on them” [basically the “fair exchange ain’t no robbery” theory]. These last two periods of my life were the toxic,”oh hell knaw you can’t date my daughter” stages. The first one would’ve been great except that it was born out of naiveté and therefore the latter two were pre-ordained to appear. Luckily there was not one woman who spanned any of those. My first and second girlfriends during the first period ended amicably because of situations like commitment to activities or school and the knowledge that each of us had other things to do in life. If you dated me during those last two periods, I’m sorry, I was young.  Interestingly even during those periods I had times where I seriously thought….thought…thought…I could commit to one woman. Which brings me back to my problem; because I really believed I could so there was no lie. But how could a woman know there wasn’t the responsibility or maturity to stick by my commitment at 20 that I acquired in my late 20’s. Ironically it’s because of these immature and irresponsible stages that I’m settled into the Dad/Husband stage in my life now. Had I not experienced the ebbs and flows of my dating life I’m certain I wouldn’t be here today.

However this doesn’t help me evaluate the boy coming to my door to date my teenaged daughter or help me give her advice on dating. Maybe I’ll use one of those corny sayings from my Dad that in retrospect was probably the wisest dating advice I’d ever been given. When I was thirteen he told me to “Just make friends” and at the time I thought he was telling not to date but to be “friends.” Which as any single young man will tell you is really not where you want to be. Chris Rock called it the friend-zone a dead space for a man in a relationship. Thinking about it now, he meant treat everyone as friends. Men don’t lie to our Homeboys. We don’t trick our homeboys into hanging out with us. If our Boy calls and just wants to hang out we don’t act like its a huge sacrifice. Many times we treat our boys better than we ever treat our mates. Sick right? Strange definitely to think about it this way but it wasn’t until I met my best friend at 25 that I realized that he was right. The timing wasn’t right initially but the fact that we respected each other as friends allowed the timing to synch.  Eighteen years later I’m married to her and we have a thirteen year old daughter. So what will I tell her?  “ Timing is everything”, and “Just make friends”…. What will I do….Pray!