When I was 13, I was on the football team. I was quite good. Now, I was not a cocky kid. I was painfully shy and insecure. Football was the only thing I had ever been good at. I worked so hard to get good. I was just beginning to feel like I might be worthwhile.

After a particularly good game, I left the field to go home and met up with my father. I naively expected some sort of approval or acknowledgement - which, to be honest, I craved.

No.

Instead, (and I'll never ever forget that moment) he poked me in the chest (hard) and said: "Wipe that grin off your face. You've done nothing. You didn't do any of this - I did. I made you. Without me you wouldn't even be here. Without me, you're nothing."

Here was this man - so woefully devoid of accomplishment that he felt the need to co-opt whatever I had done to validate himself. Somehow, event at that tender age, I saw him for what he was.

I remember thinking to myself "what kind of thing is that to say to a 13 year old kid?".

At that point, I resolved never to be that petty. I resolved never to use someone else to validate myself. I resolved to seek accomplishment by creating - and not by attaching myself to the accomplishments of others.

That moment still saddens me. I never trusted or felt close to my father after that day..