The truth about fatherhood | The Gray Area

Parenthood is a transformative experience, profoundly altering an individual at every stage. It's unrealistic to expect a "final version" of oneself, as parenthood, particularly fatherhood, acts as a continuous, intense catalyst for self-discovery and adaptation. Derek Thompson, a former staff writer at The Atlantic and author of the Substack "Derek Thompson," shared his insights on fatherhood, describing it as "relentless" rather than merely "hard." Unlike other aspects of life that have clear beginnings and ends, parenthood is an unending commitment, a constant state of being. This unending quality contributes to both its exhausting nature and its special significance. The relentless pace of fatherhood is evident from the moment a parent wakes up, often to the cries of their children, until the children are finally in bed. Thompson, a father of two daughters, notes that from the first moment of consciousness to late evening, his day is consumed by work or childcare. While demanding, he views it as a beautiful choice to spend so much time with loved ones. Transitioning from one child to two presents unique challenges. The common cliché is that "one plus one doesn't equal two; it equals five or nine or eighteen." This is because parents shift from a "zone defense" to a "man defense," where each parent is constantly engaged with a child, eliminating the possibility of one parent taking a break while the other manages. This creates "geometrical challenges," particularly when one parent is absent. However, having a second child can also alleviate some of the existential dread often experienced with a firstborn. The initial experience of bringing home a "stranger"—a pathetically desperate individual—is marked by extraordinary angst and fear. With the second child, parents have a better understanding of basic care, like changing diapers and interpreting cries, leading to less existential fear. The trade-off, however, is even less time for leisure and personal space. The concept of a baby as a "stranger" is profound. Babies are not just individuals one hasn't met before; they are constantly changing entities. The baby at two weeks is different from the baby at two months, and so on. Parenting, in this sense, is like parenting a "series of strangers," a succession of constantly evolving individuals who retain the same basic facial structure. This constant change is a fundamental "law of parenting," making it impossible to ever feel fully settled in one reality or frustration. This "Buddhist" aspect of constant change, where "everything is a season," offers wisdom applicable beyond parenting. The ephemeral nature of each developmental stage brings a unique form of sadness. As soon as a parent feels they understand a particular version of their child, that version has already faded. This is particularly poignant when parents decide they are done having children, as every "first" experience with the last child becomes a "last" experience. Thompson likens babies to "telescopes for time," allowing adults to measure time in a new way. For middle-aged adults, time can feel less distinct, but children provide a clear metric through their rapid development and milestones. This philosophical wrinkle adds another layer to the parenting experience. The anticipation of these changes also brings a "laugh, cry, happy, sad" aspect to parenting. Parents often find themselves "missing something even before it's missing," mourning the eventual disappearance of a current stage while it's still present. This awareness can foster a healthy form of "nostalgia in the present," encouraging parents to appreciate moments that they know they will look back on fondly. The quote from D.W. Winnicott, "There's no such thing as a baby," highlights the relational nature of existence. Winnicott argues that describing a baby inherently involves describing "a baby and someone" because a baby exists as a "dyad," a relationship between two people. Thompson extends this idea, suggesting that "there is no such thing as a person" in isolation. Individuals are defined by their relationships; "who is Shawn is who is Shawn in relation to me." We are the sum of our relationships, a truth that is particularly evident in the rapidly changing context of early childhood. Parenthood forces individuals to constantly meet and confront new versions of themselves. The child at two weeks is not the child at two years, and similarly, the parent evolves. This continuous self-discovery can be both "one of the best parts" and "potentially one of the most troubling parts" of being a parent, as it tests one's character and reveals who they truly are. Thompson encourages self-reflection, urging parents to observe their reactions when their children are at their worst to understand themselves better. He admits to a strategy of "quiet disengagement"—turning his back on a screaming toddler—as a reaction to his own father's tendency towards anger. This demonstrates how parenting styles can be both facsimiles of and reactions against parental examples. The modern conception of fatherhood is often confused, intertwined with broader discussions about masculinity. Thompson points to the debate surrounding paternity leave as an example. He strongly disagrees with the sentiment that dads are "useless" in early stages and that paternity leave is absurd. He argues that paternity leave is beneficial not only for men but also for women in heterosexual households and, crucially, for children. Having two parents at home provides essential support for the mother, who often bears the primary caregiving burden, especially if breastfeeding. The "other person who is not breastfeeding" has a significant amount of work to do, from preparing bottles to providing comfort and assistance. Furthermore, equalizing parental leave can help mitigate the "motherhood penalty" that contributes to wage disparity between men and women. Regarding parenting philosophy, Thompson has become dogmatic about inverting the common cliché that "the child comes first, then the relationship, then the individual." He advocates for prioritizing oneself first, then the relationship, and then the child. His reasoning is that if an individual is not whole, they cannot be a good partner, and if the partnership is not strong, they cannot be good co-parents. Building this foundation makes parenting significantly easier. He criticizes the "extreme version of parenting perfectionism" that encourages parents to "eviscerate their life in zealous devotion to their child," warning that such an approach leads to burnout and misery, and can foster narcissistic children who believe they are the center of the universe. Instead, parents should strive to raise adaptable children who understand they are not always the center of attention. This "Sisyphean" task of parenting requires finding cheer and purpose, even in difficult moments. Becoming a dad has not changed Thompson's professional ambitions. He believes some parents become less ambitious, while others are re-energized by a new sense of purpose; he has experienced neither. However, parenthood has awakened his instinct. Previously a "big data, Wirecutter guy" who researched extensively before making decisions, he found himself relying more on his gut feelings as a parent. He realized that generalized parenting research, while valuable, represents the "average of all the babies that aren't your baby." He is raising *his* children, and his instinct as a dad has become "supercharged" in a way that his instinct in other domains is often muted. This instinctiveness has not yet bled into his analytical work, where he still ventriloquizes critics' voices, but in parenting, he feels a unique freedom to parent as he wishes, unconcerned with external approval.