My father died in cancer at 13. We never had a clear man to man relationship, or any talk of that matter. I was very shy and scared of sharing my inner thoughts, I don't remember if he tried or if I never opened up. I'm still split about him since I've never had the chance of talking to him as a 20+ mature man. Everyone knew him as a wise, altruistic good hearted man. Tall, taller than me, handsome, not as handsome as me. Born to a wealthy family. Golden child of a narcissistic grandfather, which troubled him for all his life. He had many, many friends, a good stable job and respect in his field. He lived the earlier parts of his life as a hedonist, surfing in Australia, being a skitrainer in the alps, doing college in the US with a sport(certificate?) doing all kinds of drugs. He never spent a dime on fine clothes or expensive furniture, materialistically he was a spartan, neither did he care for status or fame and I admire that, even though I have different values. I think good clothing, art, and housing somewhat proves something.
But he was unhappy, atleast that was my general impression. Once he even said it, open air in the kitchen and said he wanted change. I remember them fighting about divorce. Mother says it was becuase of his cancer, the fatal one was the third wave. Cancer depresses a man. I will never know if it was that or the life he ended up living. He met my mother in their early 30's. Father didn't want kids, my mom changed her mind when they were in their later half of their 30's. They got me. My mother is very emotionally unstable and never brought it upon herself to not live it out on me. He was somewhat a wavebreaker before he passed. My school and neighbourhood was still shit and could be picked with so much better care, I would be so much farther than I already am. He would give me spontaneus advise in that deep tone fatherish way but there was never a clear code nor do I remember any red pill parts. But I am not a 100% redpiller, I know that game works and that the hypergamy and beta theories are real. I'm not so sure that true love doesn't exist. There seems to be lots of examples, especially in older generations yet still existant today.
Either way its in the past now. I found the manosphere at 17 when I was tired of being a practically kissless virgin and wanted to figure out how to get laid. A year later I lost it to a smoking 9, mix of luck and applied noob game with good looks. I still don't expect to be a confident, alpha male with a clear inner game until I'm atleast 25. I know I am somewhat intelligent, a nerd if u may, and I'm not one of those thugs that can adopt some stupid street ethic and become instant badboy alpha. I need to write my own.
There are yet so many questions to be answered, wether to be machiavellian or utilitarian, nihilistic or moralic. I don't even know if I beleive in God yet. I have no problem with it, I find humbleness in these manners to be a virtue. Most great philosophers made their name when they were old. At the same time, I don't know if my father ever found his path, and I don't want that. He never aimed for self-realization, this rockstar dream that most of the young of us share. Maybe that was a mistake, maybe that was one of his best sides.
Not having a true father figure is troublesome not only for a child but also for a teenager and young adult aswell. I don't think single mothers even know what they are doing for their kids. One of the reasons I cannot help to despite them.
I would give everything I own for a conversation with my father. I wouldn't need to se him, or hug him or anything like that. Just ask.