My Relationship with My Father

“Bryan, do you still want to be part of the family?”

My dad asked me that about five years ago.

I don’t think he ever imagined he’d ask me that.
And I never imagined I’d make him feel like he had to.

. . . 

I’m writing this for anyone who doesn’t want to wake up one day with regret about the people closest to them.

You never know what one honest conversation might change.

. . .

Growing up, my dad and I built our relationship around sports.

Throwing the baseball in the backyard.
Basketball games.
Shooting sporting clays.
Fishing.
Buffalo wings.
College football — Florida Gators (his alma mater), of course.
Sunday “Russian breakfasts” with my grandparents.
Hiking in National Parks. 

He was the kind of father who was always there. Even after my parents split.

Not the kind who disappeared and started a “new life”.

And I never had to question him being around.

. . .

Then I went to college.

I broke his heart by choosing Georgia over Florida — which, if you understand the SEC, is not a small betrayal.

But that wasn’t the real shift.

The real shift was ambition.

I became obsessed with building something.
Internships. Work. Long-term thinking.

I wasn’t interested in college nightlife.
I was interested in not waking up at 40 doing work I didn’t believe in.

When I graduated, I passed on the agency job in New York and doubled down on my own path.

“If not now, then when?”

From 22 to 32, I have stayed on that road — trying to build something meaningful. Trying to make it commercially viable. Trying to prove it wasn’t naive.

I wanted support.

He wanted security for me.

Neither of us were wrong.

. . . 

Almost five years ago, I left D.C., sold nearly everything I owned, and moved west.

What I didn’t expect was how much of my past would surface when I slowed down.

Things I hadn’t processed.
Expectations I didn’t know I carried.
Needs I didn’t know I had.

And when you start seeing things clearly, you can’t unsee them.

Some of that clarity turned into resentment.
Some of it came out sideways.

And one Christmas, after tension came out one day, he asked:

“Bryan, do you still want to be part of the family?”

. . .

There’s a phase many of us go through.

As kids, our parents wear capes.

Then one day we take the cape off them.
Sometimes harshly.

If we’re lucky, we reach a third phase, where we see them as human.
Doing the best they knew how to do.

That Christmas was our inflection point.

Because it forced honesty.

. . . 

At a lunch in 2021, I told him what I had never clearly said:

I didn’t need him to understand every decision.
I needed to feel championed in them.

I needed to know that even if my path looked risky, I wasn’t walking it alone.

I was scared as hell going into that conversation.
I expected resistance.

What I felt instead was something quieter.

I felt heard.

And that changed everything.

Not overnight. But steadily.

Today, our relationship is the strongest it’s ever been.

We talk multiple times a week.
He supports the work I’m building.
And I see more clearly the sacrifices (he made) and steadiness that shaped me (and him).

The man I wanted to be championed by had been there all along.

We just had to learn how to talk as two adults instead of father and son stuck in old roles.

. . . 

Yesterday he turned 66.

Last year he flipped a golf cart, cracked his tailbone without knowing it, and hit a hole-in-one a few holes later.

I told him he went to hell and heaven on the same day.

Our relationship has felt a little like that over the past five years.

But sometimes you have to hit bottom — no pun intended — before you build something stronger than what you started with.

I keep thinking about one question:

What would have happened if I never asked for what I needed?

How many relationships quietly drift because no one is brave enough to define what they want?

If you’re lucky enough to still have your parents…
Or a sibling…
Or someone who matters deeply…

Maybe the most loving thing you can do isn’t to avoid tension.

Maybe it’s to run into it thoughtfully. 

You never know.

It might just turn into the relationship you always wanted.

Happy Birthday Pops . . .thanks for letting me tell the world (assumptive green light) about how special you are to me today.

Community Notes

1) If you missed our last 2 newsletters, they had strong reactions from the audience, given the disruption we are taking to the thought leadership industry. Give them a read if you’re tuning in for the first time.

Why Your Voice Should Not Cost A Fortune
The Mission Never Changed

2) Check out 2 new Arc Launches hot off the press. Both Luis and Amy have moved into the second phase of our activation work, but the positioning, strategy, and design were very strong!

Amy Norman Arc Launch
Luis Pagan Arc Launch

Super proud of our team right now.
The best is ahead. 🚀🚀

And next week . . . you are in for a real treat. I sat down with the Editor and Chief of Entrepreneur Mag, Jason Feifer, where we discussed his brand through the lens of it growing on a stock exchange. It was fascinating (thanks to him). 🤯 🤯 🤯