To Fathers Who Are Trying
A Fathers' Day Message | The Weary Heart #5
"It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers."
— Johann Schiller
To the father reading this,
the one who has secretly Googled “am I a failure as a dad” when the house got too quiet and the shame got too loud—
this is for you.
To the one who said nothing when his wife said, “We’ll be okay,” but deep down he knew they weren’t—
this is for you too.
To the dad whose kids are too young to understand why you’re stressed all the time,
why you’re quieter these days,
why your hugs feel more like apologies than affection—
this one is especially for you.
1. The Weight No One Sees
You wake up with it.
You carry it all day.
And then you sleep with it pressing into your chest.
Not everyone sees the burden. You don't get celebrated for showing up. No one claps when you resist the urge to lash out after a long day. No one sees the breakdown in the car park before you enter the house and smile like nothing’s wrong.
Maybe you’re one of the thousands of fathers caught in an endless job hunt. You’ve tailored your CV. You’ve said all the right things in interviews. You’ve smiled until your cheeks hurt. And still… nothing.
Or maybe you're working, but it feels meaningless. You’ve become a provider, not a person. And even though you’re bringing the money home, something inside you is bleeding slowly. You can’t explain it. But it's there.
Some fathers are healing from childhood wounds they never got the chance to process—
An abusive father.
A father who abandoned the family.
Or one who died too young, too suddenly, too unfairly.
Now you’re left trying to be the man you never saw growing up.
It’s like building a house from memory,
but no one ever gave you the blueprint.
2. The Dark Thought
Let’s not pretend.
Some dads don’t just feel tired.
They feel done.
I’ve spoken to men who sat in parked cars for hours at night, engine off, staring into space, contemplating the one thing no one talks about in family groups, friendship circles, or religious classes.
Ending it.
Not out of selfishness.
Not out of weakness.
But because they genuinely believed their families would be better off without them.
One father once told me, “I just felt like a burden to everyone. My kids deserved a better version of me—but I couldn’t find him anywhere.”
Let me say this clearly:
If that’s you—
You’re not alone.
You’re not weak.
You’re not crazy.
You’re not beyond repair.
You are a father in pain.
And that pain, though it feels permanent right now, is not your identity.
Please—pause. Breathe. Make istighfar, dzikr, tune in to the soothing divine words of the Quran. OK?
For now, please read on.
There’s more to this..
3. Real Stories, Real Struggles
Let me tell you about three fathers I personally know. Their names are changed, but their stories are real.
Father #1: Shafiq
He lost his job during the pandemic. Then he lost his confidence. Then he lost the respect of his in-laws.
He applied for 80 jobs. Zero interviews.
He told me: “I used to be someone. Now I’m just… here.”
Fast forward 2 years—he’s now mentoring other unemployed fathers through a community initiative. His kids beam when they say, “My dad helps other dads.”
Father #2: Azman
He’s a single dad of three girls. His ex-wife remarried and moved away.
He cooks. He cleans. He cries when no one’s looking.
He once messaged me, “I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know I have to keep doing it.”
Today, his eldest just got accepted into university. She posted a photo of him on Instagram with the caption: “My hero.”
Father #3: Rizal
He spent years thinking he wasn’t good enough.
Had a rough past. Jail time. Addiction.
Didn’t think he deserved love. Didn’t think he deserved to raise kids.
But he changed.
One small step at a time.
His kids are young, but they tell everyone, “Abah’s the strongest man in the world.”
What changed?
They didn’t give up.
4. A Story from History: The Father Who Endured
Let me take you to the story of Malcolm X’s father—Rev. Earl Little.
A preacher. A man ahead of his time.
He preached about Black empowerment and justice in 1920s America—long before it was safe to do so.
Because of his beliefs, he was constantly targeted.
Their family home was burnt down.
He received death threats.
He moved his family again and again, trying to protect them.
Eventually, he died under suspicious circumstances—hit by a streetcar, possibly murdered. Malcolm was only six.
For years, Malcolm wandered. Lost. Angry.
He went through crime, jail, disillusionment.
But what brought him back—
was the echo of his father’s voice.
The seeds his father planted—the fight for dignity, the belief in truth, the refusal to be silent—those seeds grew even after his death.
Malcolm X became one of the most powerful, articulate, and transformational figures in American history.
And to this day, he said, “My father was the first man I ever looked up to.”
You see dear fathers, even when you think you’ve failed,
your mere presence and sincere nasihah might be building something that will outlive you.
5. The Wounds You Hide
Let’s talk about the invisible wounds.
You might look okay on the outside.
But inside—
you’re still that teenage boy who was told he wasn’t good enough.
You’re still trying to prove yourself to a father who never saw you.
You’re still punishing yourself for the mistakes you made in your past.
You’re still haunted by what you didn’t say to your dad before he passed.
Fatherhood doesn’t cancel out those wounds.
It exposes them.
It pushes them to the surface.
But here’s the truth:
You can still heal while being a father.
You can be imperfect and still raise incredible children.
And maybe, just maybe, your healing will teach them how to heal too.
6. The Beauty You’ve Missed
You don’t always see the impact you have. But let me show you what I see:
A daughter who watches how you hold her hand and thinks, That’s how I want to be treated.
A son who listens to your quiet perseverance and thinks, That’s what strength looks like.
A wife who, even if she doesn’t always say it, is quietly grateful for how you keep showing up.
A fellow dad friend who admires how you’ve never stopped trying, even when it would’ve been easier to walk away.
You may not see the fruit now.
But the roots are growing.
Every bedtime story.
Every “How was school?”
Every time you showed mercy instead of shouting.
Every early morning you went out to find work again.
Every joke you cracked to make the room lighter.
Those things matter.
They add up.
They make you a father.
7. To the Father Who Misses His Own
Maybe your father is no longer here.
Or maybe he left when you needed him most.
And now, every time you do something good,
you wish he was around to see it.
Let that longing become fuel.
Be the man you needed.
One day, your children might say of you what you never got to say of him.
“He stayed. He loved. He tried. He taught me how to be better.”
That to me, is a legacy worth building.
8. A Du’a for You
May Allah soften your heart when it’s hardened by the world.
May He forgive you for the moments you fell short.
May He reward you for the pain you never spoke of.
May He fill your home with barakah, even if the bank account says otherwise.
May your children remember your love long after you're gone.
May your brokenness be the start of your becoming.
And may Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) be to you…
an example and inspiration of what your own father was not able to be.
Before You Go
I want you to remember,
Fatherhood isn’t a title.
It’s a test.
A trial.
A trust.
And you’re not failing.
You’re in the middle of it.
And the middle always feels messy.
But you’re here. You’re reading this. You’re trying.
And that, my fellow father, is beautiful.
P.S. If this letter touched your heart, share it with a father who might need to hear it. You never know who’s sitting silently, just waiting for a reminder that he matters too.
With love,
Mizi Wahid
For The Weary Heart