A few years ago, I mentored a young man, Mark*. He’d gone to university to study law, a path his father had encouraged and financially supported. But even with that support, there was an emptiness underneath. His dad had been largely absent, physically present at times, but emotionally unreachable.

When Mark finished his degree and started a postgraduate program, he began to feel like he wasn’t living his own life. Every decision felt like it was made to earn approval he’d never really received. So, he hit pause. He told his father he needed space to seek God and figure out who he really was. His father didn’t take it well. The support stopped. So did the communication.

And that’s when the deeper pain surfaced, the kind that money can’t cover. The pain of an absent father who was there… but not really.

Understanding the Absent Father Wound

A lot of men carry this wound, whether they realize it or not. It’s not always about a dad who left.

Sometimes, it’s a dad who stayed but never really saw you. Never spoke life into you. Never showed up emotionally.

That kind of absence still leaves a mark. It makes you question your worth. It can show up in relationships, at work, in the way you carry yourself or shrink back from things you were made to lead. But the truth is: that wound doesn’t have to be your ending. Healing is possible, and it starts with naming what hurt you, so it doesn’t keep running your story.

Rebuilding Identity Without Regret

One of the most important things I tell the men I coach is this: your father’s presence may have shaped you, but it doesn’t define your worth. Some of us had dads who were encouraging. Others had dads who were silent, controlling, or just gone. But either way, you are not limited to the story you were handed.

That’s what Mark started to learn when he stepped away. He’d been chasing validation, living out someone else’s expectations, until he finally asked the question: who am I, really?

He didn’t turn to religion. He turned to God because he needed something real. An anchor. A Father who wouldn’t flake.

And what he found was this: your identity is not built on your performance, your job title, or even your last name. It’s built on the truth that you are known by God. Loved by God. Called by name and created on purpose.

That “something greater” is a relationship with the One who formed you—not with pressure, but with love.

Your identity isn’t earned. It’s received. And that changes everything. You don’t need to keep hustling for approval. You don’t need to keep pretending you’re not hurting. You can rebuild with grace.

• Get around mentors and brothers who speak life into you.
• Let go of the bitterness that’s been heavy on your shoulders.
• Forgive; not because they deserve it, but because you deserve peace.
• And ask God to show you who you really are. Not who the world says or who your father failed to call out.

Your father’s presence may have shaped you, but it doesn’t define your worth.

Breaking the Cycle: Steps for Dads

If you’re a father reading this, let me speak directly to you.

You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be present.

Breaking the cycle means showing up, not just with money or advice, but with your full heart. It means:

• Paying attention to your children’s fears, dreams, and struggles.
• Listening without fixing.
• Affirming who they are becoming.
• Letting them know you’re proud, even when they fall and fail.

That’s how you build a legacy. Not by trying to get everything right, but by being the kind of man who stays, loves consistently, speaks truth gently and who models grace.

You don’t have to be the dad you had. You can be the father your kids will thank God for.

And you have what it takes to be that kind of man.

_{*This is a true story; however, “Mark” is a pseudonym used to honor his privacy.}