by Meg Meeker
I realized then that my dad recognized in this man something that I hadn’t. The tough guy back home, who insisted on curfews even when I was a grown-up and who told me exactly what he thought about the men I dated, was right, as he’d been right many times before. He never once reneged on the authority he felt as my father—and I can tell you now that nothing feels better to a teen or young daughter than being protectively embraced by dad’s strong arms. His authority kept me out of trouble, it made me feel loved, and more than anything, it made me proud that he was my dad.
Your daughter needs your guideposts of right and wrong, of proper and improper behavior. When she hits third grade or high school or marriage—all new experiences for her—she needs to know what you think is best for her. You’ve been there before. She trusts your opinion. So let her know. Don’t be afraid. And don’t shy away from the big questions in life. She’ll want to know what you think her life’s purpose is: whether you believe she should indulge her own passions or devote herself to helping others.
When Ellie was fifteen years old, she came to me for a checkup. She was excited, and after a few minutes of chatting she told me why.
“My dad and I just got back from Peru,” she blurted. “It was so cool. You can’t believe how beautiful the mountains were and how amazing the people were we met.”
“How nice, Ellie. Who all went on your trip?”
“Just my dad and me.”
“What about your mother, your brother and sister? Didn’t they want to go on vacation with you?”
“Oh no, we weren’t on vacation,” she said. “We went to bring medical supplies to people in the Andes who don’t have any. My dad and I planned our trip a year ago and this was something he just wanted to do with me, I guess.”
“That must have been fun.”
“Well, I really wouldn’t call it fun. It was incredibly hard. We hiked up the mountain every day starting at about ten thousand feet and set up clinics in empty rooms and sometimes outside. I took blood pressures and gave fluoride treatments to kids and grown-ups and my dad treated their sicknesses.”
I stopped my exam, picturing this elfish young girl hiking up mountains, shoving trays of fluoride paste into strangers’ mouths, and sleeping outside.
“What in the world prompted your dad to take you on the trip?”
“Oh, I don’t know. He has always been the kind of guy who looks out for people who are poor or sick. Even here at home since I was really little he would take me with him to the soup kitchen in town. One time I remember my mom got real mad at him because we went to pick up Chinese food for dinner. On the way home he saw a guy rummaging through a trash can at a park. He stopped the car, jumped out with all of our Chinese food, and asked the man what he would like to eat. The guy chose the egg rolls—my mom’s favorite. That’s why she got mad. He never told her about the guy in the park, she just thought he forgot them. So I guess going to Peru was just what’s natural for him. He loves taking care of others.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Did you like what you were doing in Peru?”
“Oh yeah, I loved it. It was amazing. I really wanted to go. You know, watching my dad, who’s this big-shot, really smart doctor, go off to help people who don’t have enough food, who die of gross stuff like worms and junk, makes me want to do it too. I know a lot of my friends’ dads don’t do stuff like this. But my dad’s amazing. He’s always thinking about what others need more than what he wants. I think that’s cool and I want to be like him. That’s why I went.”
By living his beliefs, Ellie’s father led her to the same spot.
Do a gut check on your own beliefs, and think of what sort of woman you want your daughter to be. She’ll learn not only from what you say, but from what you do.
One of the best things fathers can do is raise their daughters’ expectations of life. That will directly affect how your daughter talks, how she dresses, how well she does in school, even what sports or musical instruments she chooses to play. You can help her set goals, help her define a higher purpose for her life, and as a result, her self-esteem will skyrocket. And it will bring you closer, because she’ll recognize you as a leader and an ally, helping her to chart a better course.
My teenage patients know that I am a strong advocate of teens postponing sexual activity. They know that I will talk to them about sex. They know what I will say. And even if they don’t want to listen, they almost always respond positively because they know I’m on their side, that I care about their future.
Fathers need to be strict, but they also need to be kind, accepting, and loving. It’s a matter of balance. The don’ts are easy. Don’t let your daughter think of you as the enemy. Don’t use your authority in ways that are cruel or that sting. Don’t try to live your life through hers. Don’t try to make her your robot. But do lead.
If you don’t accept the authority that is naturally yours, if you don’t set high standards, if you don’t act to protect your daughter, if you don’t live a life of moral principle, your daughter will suffer, as my patient Leah suffered.
I met Leah when she was sixteen years old. When I pushed open the exam room door, I saw her sitting with her mother. They looked very solemn. They weren’t reading magazines or talking or even looking at the pictures on the walls.
“Hello, Leah, I’m Dr. Meeker. It’s nice to meet you.” I offered my hand.
“Hi.”
She didn’t look up.
I waited.
She still didn’t look up.
Her mother broke the awkward silence. “I’m Leah’s mother, Dr. Meeker. She really doesn’t want to be here. I made her come because something’s wrong. I’m really worried she’s depressed.”
As Leah’s mother spoke, I watched Leah. All I saw was the top of her head. She sat hunched over, her hands tucked in the opposite sleeves of her shirt, her legs crossed beneath her in the metal chair.
When her mother spoke, Leah didn’t flinch.
“When do you feel her depression started?”
“Well . . . you see, Dr. Meeker, this is kind of embarrassing.”
Leah looked at her mother and shook her head, trying to stop her.
“Leah, we have to talk about this. I know it’s tough but it’s very important.”
Leah’s gaze returned to the carpet.
“You see, a couple of months ago Leah went to her friend’s house. He was her best friend. They had known each other since the fourth grade. Anyway, they spent a lot of time together. You know, not dating or anything. Actually, Leah was just beginning to date another guy, his name was Jeremy.” Her mother paused, and Leah began to shift in her seat.
“Well, anyway, this friend—her boy ‘friend,’ not Jeremy—asked Leah to help him with a paper he was writing. Dr. Meeker, they studied together all the time. This particular day, I think it was a Tuesday—no, Leah, was it a Thursday?”
I was growing impatient but waited.
“Doesn’t matter. She said that, yes, she would help him and they went to his house after school. Apparently—now, Leah, you correct me if I’m wrong—apparently they were sitting on the couch studying and out of the blue he pushed himself on her.”
Leah’s mother stopped for a moment. Leah began sobbing.
“Leah,” I tried. “Is that what happened?”
Leah nodded her head. Her mother continued. “I don’t know all that happened, you know, sexually. But whatever it was it really upset her.”
Leah cried harder.
Over the next forty-five minutes, I learned from the tentative sixteen-year-old girl and her mother that Leah’s trusted friend had suddenly “turned on her” and forced her to participate in many sexual acts.
“Leah, do you realize what this boy did to you was illegal? He should be in jail right now. What did your father do?”
She delivered her father’s response in a monotone voice. “My dad said to me, ‘Boys will be boys,’ and left to go golfing.”
The assault was devastati
ng to Leah, but the blow that had brought her down was the fact that her father didn’t care and didn’t defend her. He could have been Leah’s hero. He could have stormed over to the young man’s house and demanded an apology for his daughter; he could have demanded that the young man turn himself over to the police. But instead, he went golfing.
If her dad had done anything to defend her—even a simple angry phone call to the young man—he could have spared his daughter months of agony. Instead, it took eighteen months of counseling to help her depression abate.
It is a fundamental principle of human behavior that having an authority makes us feel good. Yes, all of us. While instinctively we want to buck it, when the sky falls in, we run to it. When confronted by any problem, any challenge, any mess that we can’t get ourselves out of, we want someone who has answers, someone who can offer support, someone who can offer a helping hand and who knows what to do.
Dad, that’s what your daughter wants from you. Your daughter doesn’t have to like your mannerisms, your rules, your clothes, or your political views, but you never want to lose her respect. And you won’t if you live your moral beliefs and act with authority. If you do that, you will be a hero in her eyes. It’s what she wants you to be. And I can say, as a pediatrician: Don’t back out. Please. She needs you, possibly more than you can imagine.
Many psychiatrists believe that a father’s response is the most important factor in how quickly a girl recovers mentally from a sexual assault. In fact, how a father responds to his daughter’s sexual assault can be as significant a turning point in her life as the assault itself. Think about this for a moment. A sexual assault is possibly the most traumatic event a girl can experience. Now consider that many psychologists and psychiatrists say your response to your daughter’s assault is as important as the event itself to your daughter’s future emotional health. This makes sense, and here’s why.
When a child (or adult) is humiliated or harmed, her natural instinct is to get back at the offender, to fight, to defend herself. Every ounce of her screams to claw, to run, to do something—but she is physically weaker than her attacker. Now she sees you. In her eyes, you are big, tough, and smart. Her gut tells her, “He can help. He’s the answer. My dad will make things right because he loves me. My dad will kill him. He’ll stand up for me.” Before you even learn what’s happened, she has imagined your heroic response. Mom can’t do it, but you can.
If you do what your instinct tells you to do. If you get angry and take action, she will feel affirmed. She will feel loved. She will feel defended. She will feel a sense of justice. She will feel a sense of closure over the horrible incident. When you respond as her hero, both of you win.
But if you respond as Leah’s dad did, you achieve the exact opposite effect on every count. Your daughter will feel discredited, unloved, and undefended. She will feel that dad is not someone she can count on. She will feel no sense of closure, no sense of justice having been done, and she will even think that the horrible assault is what she has to expect from boys. And the result will be deep and long-lasting depression.
Leah was betrayed by her friend, failed by her father, and suffered depression, confusion, and a sense of helplessness and anxiety that a mother’s care couldn’t begin to alleviate without eighteen months of counseling. Would Leah have recovered sooner if her dad had acted as a hero? I know the answer is yes because I’ve see hundreds of Leahs. And I submit that if he acted as a man ought, rather than shrugging his shoulders in weakness, he might have prevented Leah’s depression.
Dad, it’s not optional: your daughter needs you to be her hero.
Perseverance
One of the toughest aspects of being a hero to your daughter is not just deciding what is good and right for her, but also keeping her on track. Fathers can demand tremendous discipline from themselves, but they can find it much harder to stand firm with their children. Fathers get tired. Daughters can become defiant, manipulative, and wear their fathers down. This is where perseverance comes in.
I have seen this operate in my own home. My husband and I work together. With patients he is clear, decisive, and expects that his advice will be followed. Then he comes home. When our seventeen-year-old daughter insists on going to a beach party with friends until one in the morning, he listens attentively. It’s ten o’clock at night and we’re both exhausted. She isn’t, so she looks at her dad and offers, “Pleeease, Dad.” Then something peculiar happens. Rational convictions leap from his brain. This man who only hours before was clear and firm about what was best for his patients goes to complete mush. “Oh, honey, I guess if you promise to be home by one, you can go.”
“Are you crazy?” I blurt out. “Seventeen-year-old guys and seventeen-year-old girls on a beach until one in the morning? I don’t think so.”
Too often fathers give in to daughters and then rationalize it away: “All kids experiment with alcohol and sex and a little bit of drugs, I can’t keep her from that forever,” or “Now that she’s seventeen she’s mature enough to handle herself.” But this is the same daughter who, when she was ten years old, you pledged to protect from all these things—and the dangers aren’t over. They’re getting worse.
Sure, other kids are experimenting with sex and drugs and alcohol, but other kids aren’t your daughter. And your daughter will respect you more if you don’t give in. The minute you waffle on your convictions, you lose stature in your daughter’s eyes. She thinks you’re smarter than other parents, tougher than her boyfriend, and care more about her—and what’s right for her—than other people. Let me tell you a secret about daughters of all ages: they love to boast about how tough their dads are—not just physically, but how strict and demanding they are. Why? Because this allows daughters to “show off” how much their fathers love them. If only you could be privy to the private conversations of girlfriends.
If you only had to fight for her once, twice, or even ten times, the process wouldn’t be so tough. But you might have to fight for her two hundred times. You only have eighteen short years before she is on her own. If you don’t show her the high road now, she won’t find it later. Perseverance in setting her on that road isn’t easy. She might appear embarrassed by your interventions. She might sulk. She might even say she hates you. But you can see what she can’t. You know how sixteen-year-old boys react when they see her in a halter top. You know how even one beer can make her unsafe to drive. You know a lot more than she does, and however hard it is to persevere in leading her the right way, you have to do it.
And that means not just setting and enforcing rules, but leading by example. When you persevere, even when your principles cost you dearly, she learns the lesson. She’ll see you as a hero, and if she admires what you do, she will do it too.
Now here we must face a thorny issue—divorce. It’s important for every good father to know the impact of divorce on his daughter. Only then can you help her.
Volumes of research on daughters and sons consistently reveal that divorce hurts kids. That’s just the way it is. Daughters often feel abandoned, guilty, sad, and angry. They often become depressed. No matter how much a father tries to convince a daughter that it wasn’t her fault, it doesn’t matter. Up through adolescence, young people usually see themselves at the center of their family and friends, and that whatever happens, happens in large part because of them. So your daughter might not only feel responsible for your divorce, she could also feel devastated and guilty that she can’t change your or her mother’s mind about it. These feelings exist regardless of what you do. Only time and maturity help her sort this out.
But your daughter will also feel abandoned. She’ll ask, “What was wrong with me? Wasn’t I worth sticking around for? If Mom really loved me, why did she walk out?” This is where you must begin to help her.
Your daughter expects parents to stay married. If she sees you or her mother renege on that commitment, she becomes confused. Heroes, in her mind, keep fighting. In reality, though, sometimes you
can’t. If mom leaves, has an affair, or abandons the family through drinking, your fight is limited.
But whenever, for your daughter’s sake, you can fight, you must. How you fight, how you persevere, how you manifest your courage will always influence your daughter. Sometimes perseverance for your daughter’s sake means sticking with her crazy mother. Maybe it means sacrificing your own happiness for hers. This is what heroes do. It is what your daughter expects. Making the heroic choice at work, in marriage, and throughout your life will shape your daughter, who she is and what she becomes. You need to lead her wisely, consistently, heroically.
And sometimes heroism gives us second chances.
Doug turned to look out his window. The whole point of vacationing in Florida was to celebrate twenty-five years of marriage with his wife, Judy, to reconnect with her, to bring something fresh to their relationship. The last thing he wanted to hear were Judy’s complaints about how friends of hers had been criticizing her back home.
Suddenly, his eyes went black. He heard shrieks from tearing metal. Glass shattered, tires burned and burst. His body was thrown. His mind couldn’t make sense of it. Was a bomb exploding? Was he dying or drowning?
Then came a terrible silence. Doug forced himself to be calm. His engineer’s thinking took over. Just take a few deep breaths. Figure out the problem. Face it, find a solution. He shoved open his crushed car door.
Doug paused. He was telling me about the horrible accident that had happened more than ten years ago. His great fear, he said, was that as he shoved against the car door to escape and then rescue Judy, he heard nothing: no cries, no screams, nothing. Then he saw Judy’s shoe. As he spoke, his black eyes turned away, and he cried.
