✨ Dear Reset: I Want to Connect With My Dad (But It Feels So Awkward)

Dear Reset Theory,

I grew up in a traditional Indian immigrant household—my mom did most of the housework, and my dad was the breadwinner. I was the youngest of four and constantly the helper—cooking, cleaning, chauffeuring. You name it, I did it.

My dad was rarely present—always working or sleeping. And when he was around, our interactions were transactional. We never really talked. We didn’t do things together like playing outside or him teaching me things. There was no real bonding. Just duties.

I tried to be the “good kid”—getting good grades, landing the job, doing everything I could to make him proud. And now, as an adult, I’m doing well. I have a good career, a loving relationship. But the ache of craving his approval and acknowledgment… that’s never really gone away.

Don’t get me wrong—I’m grateful. We had a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs, food on the table, and access to school. But something always felt missing.

And now that he’s older, I want to connect with him before it’s too late.
I just don’t know how. The idea of sitting him down and telling him all of this feels awkward and daunting.

What do I even say?
Where do I even start?

—Distant Kid

❤️ Dear Distant Kid,

First: what you’re describing? It’s deeply familiar for so many.

A lot of us don’t grow up close to our parents.
We grew up around them.

We existed in the same space, fulfilled our roles, showed respect—but we didn’t actually connect.

Because the truth is, a lot of our parents didn’t know how to connect.

They were never taught to ask deep questions, share emotional truths, or offer affection freely. Many of them had to grow up fast—shouldering responsibility young, surviving instability, hustling in new countries.

So while we had roofs over our heads and food in our bellies, we didn’t always have our emotional needs met.

And that’s a hard thing to admit. Because we love them. We’re grateful.
But something still hurts.

What I think is so beautiful—and brave—is that you still want to connect.
That takes emotional maturity, self-awareness, and real courage.
You’re not chasing a fantasy—you’re reaching for something honest.
And that matters.

🌱 You don’t have to move the mountain in one day.

You don’t need a dramatic sit-down to pour your heart out.

You can begin with curiosity.

Ask him small questions that open the door:

• What was your favorite subject in school?

• Who was your best friend growing up?

• What do you remember about your first job?

These might seem like nothing. But they’re quietly powerful.

Because they say: I see you as a person.
Maybe even a kid once—who had likes, dreams, struggles.

Things so many of our parents never had space to express, especially in immigrant households where survival often came first.

He might brush it off. Shrug. Say, “Why do you want to know?” or “I can’t remember.”
That’s okay. This is foreign territory for him.

Many Desi parents don’t know how to respond to care that isn’t based on duty.

But if you keep showing up—maybe through a short Sunday phone call, or even a random text with a thoughtful question—he may begin to thaw.

And over time, you might start to hear more:

• How he sees you

• How he saw himself

• The things he never said out loud, even to himself

Not because everything is magically repaired.
But because you’re no longer pretending it didn’t matter.

I’ve done versions of this with my own family.
And I thought I knew most things… but I was actually surprised by what surfaced.

They shared mistakes. Cried over old griefs.
Revealed moments of joy I never knew they had.

Sometimes I still didn’t agree with what I heard—but everything made our relationship feel more real. More layered. More human.

And hearing someone’s story—even if it doesn’t match your memory or expectations—can shift the weight you carry.

You may never get the exact relationship you always wanted.
But you can create something meaningful now—in a way that honors who you’ve become and where they came from.

🔁 Reset Moment

🎧 On Repeat:
“Weightless” by Marconi Union
A slow drift of calm. Scientifically one of the most relaxing songs ever recorded.

📓 Journal Prompt:
What are three small things I’d love to know about my parent—not to heal the past, but to soften the present?

☁️ Gentle Affirmation:
I can build something real from what’s left—not out of obligation, but from the desire to know and be known.

You’re doing something deeply sacred.
Not trying to rewrite the past, but to make peace with it—by choosing presence now.

You’ve got this.
❤️ Reset Theory