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I never planned to be a Stay At Home Dad. As a matter of fact, I never planned to be a dad at all. Ok, maybe that’s too broad a statement, I mean who really plans for anything of such magnitude such as being a parent? I guess most people don’t, but I also like to think that most people somehow know or have some sort of inkling in some back shelf of their mind that one day they will have a spouse and children. I like to think that’s the general expectation.

Myself in particular, I never expected to live past thirty.

So imagine my surprise when I “met” my wife a few months before my 24th birthday. I use the term “met” loosely because I actually met my wife on the Internet – the infancy of the Internet to be exact, in the age well before meeting people online was the norm – and she changed my entire life. Now prior to this fateful day my life thus far could be best described as – how should I say this, oh yes I got it now – a total and utter clusterfuck of epic scale. I was in recovery for addiction from meth, I drank very heavily, constantly consumed in the throes of depression, borderline suicidal and barely thought about my future beyond my next drink much less anything into any span of time that could be measured in terms of years. I was unemployed and had no college education, but like I said, I didn’t exactly have a 5 year plan for existence so I wasn’t too worried about never having attained a masters or Ph.D. in ancient origami that will assure my financial and professional growth.

When I met my wife my entire life changed, and I mean changed – I’m not just being dramatic by saying that. I was living in California at the time and within two weeks of finally meeting her in person, I packed everything I owned (or cared to own) in a duffel bag and moved to New Hampshire where my wife lived. I had never known a love like the kind she so generously and unselfishly gave, a love that accepted me unconditionally, a love that said “I don’t care how broken you are, I love you and I will never give up on you”. Her love gave me a purpose, a reason to be, a desire to be better and most of all, it gave me hope. It wasn’t long before we were married and we soon had our daughter, and if my wife was the spark that ignited my life, our daughter was the full blown forest fire that consumed my entire universe. Every single thing we did was devoted to her – emotionally, mentally and professionally.

On that professional note, my wife and I could be said to have been pulling our even share of the load. We were both working roughly the same amount of hours and making about the same amount of money. Working opposite shifts was a bit of a sacrifice but it was well worth not ever having to put our daughter in daycare. However it wasn’t long before she started pulling ahead of me.

It started very subtly, barely perceptible actually. She had had some college and decided to go back to school. Of course, I supported her and it wasn’t long before I was in awe of her dedication and commitment. I continued working, content and unrealistically secured in my job. Then I lost my job. And the next one. And as the economy tanked and I joined the ranks of the unemployed my wife found herself in a field that not only is pretty self sustaining but also one that perfectly complimented her chosen course of study.

I eventually found a job that I could tolerate with coworkers that didn’t make me cringe at the thought of working with them, and though it was part time, there was the glimmer of full time employment in the future.

Fast forward almost six years and I’m still in the same part time job and my wife, well, my wife now makes more in one day than I do in a week.

Shit. I guess maybe I should have gone after that phd in ancient historical origami.

Now what?

When I was a kid I remember seeing a comic strip (or was it a cartoon) where a caveman walks behind a cavewoman, cracks her in the back of the head with his club, and drags her off into his cave. Now by today’s standard that illustration would be viewed as offensive, unrealistic, crude, sexist, chauvinistic and possibly enough of a trigger that it might even send some people seeking the now ubiquitous “safe zone”. However, I strongly feel that somehow that image managed to surreptitiously slither its way into the subconscious of millions of men and ingrain itself in our collective worldwide DNA that men are not only supposed to be superior to women but even more importantly, must also always be the provider, the hunter, gatherer, and historically the source of everything that the family needs to survive, whether it’s against velociraptors or deciding between cable or DirectTV.

So what happens when by some twist of fate, cosmic irony or involuntary decision based on circumstances that the roles are reversed and you, the man, suddenly find yourself in the cave tending the fire, cleaning the cave, cooking the food and making sure the baby cave boys and girls are taken care of while your wife is the one out in the wild hunting the saber tooth tigers and wooly mammoths?

For many men, including myself, who have found themselves manning home and hearth rather than bringing home the proverbial bacon, this new reality is not one that they can easily embrace. Society’s standards and expectations regarding what roles each gender is expected to fill and the list of duties that each gender must execute are pressures that stay at home dads feel on a daily basis (or at least I do), and even though many of us try to maintain an even outward demeanor to the rest of the world, the emotional turmoil brought upon by no longer being the bread winner of the family is a real burden that gnaws at our emotional and mental landscape. And despite your significant other’s constant reassurance that it doesn’t bother them that the generic gender roles have been turned on it’s head, it’s not very long before you realize that shame, self-doubt and self loathing have rapidly become your new best friends. (Hell, sometimes you even start asking yourself if your wife is just giving your ego a verbal massage just to shut you up when you find yourself expressing and oft repeating the same “concerns” that you’ve told her countless of times before. Yes! I know, we’ve gone over this before, could you please give it a rest, I’ve had an 11 hour day which is half of what your work week consists of! She doesn’t actually say this, but this is what she’s actually telling me in the convoluted labyrinth that is my head). Add in any pre-existing mental conditions such as depression, OCD and anxiety and now you’ve got the perfect recipe for someone who becomes very skilled at mentally and emotionally torturing themselves on a daily basis.

So how do we overcome such obstacles? How do we adapt to our new responsibilities and duties that go against every fiber of the commercialized mainstream definition of what it means to be a man without losing our sense of self worth and value? How the hell did we even end up in this spot to begin with?

We’ll explore this and many other aspects of this reality in my next post. I invite you to join me as I take you on journey through the head and heart of this stay at home dad.

Until next time, take care and God bless!

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This is a blog for Stay At Home Dads (thus: STAYD).

You are welcome to post, comment, follow, offer help, join in the conversations, etc.

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