A couple of years ago, when I was employed at Figma, I reflected on the years I worked independently. I wrote, “When you work independently—as an entrepreneur, freelancer, or creator—in the early days, you actually could become more dependent on the people you know.”

I’ve since returned to working independently. While I remember this lesson clearly, and been going through the motions of asking for help, I still find it really difficult to practice interdependence. I recently came across a blog post by Visakan Veerasamy who’s aiming to focus on providing more for his family and being present for them. He describes a cycle he’d previously gotten stuck into it before:

    I fixate on trying to provide more

    I struggle and fail at it

    I feel guilt and shame about the failure

    The shame constricts me into feeling unworthy and/or incapable of presence

    Lack of presence makes me more anxious, despairing

    I resort to various unhealthy coping mechanisms with a cover story of “this will distract me from the pain and then I can provide more”

    Fail to provide more, fail to be present, cycle keeps getting worse

The last time this spiral reached its worst, I crashed out really badly, and my wife graciously pulled me back into reality by pointing out how badly I was failing, and how selfish I was for shutting her out of it. I logged off the internet for about 6 months (anybody who knows me knows how insane that is– I used to post even when I was sick) and spent a lot of time staring at trees. I came to see that these patterns of avoidance go all the way back to my early childhood, and I also saw very clearly that if I didn’t find a way to disrupt this pattern, my wife and children were going to pay the price for it.

I’ve since made it a habit to prioritize presence and connection with my family over everything else. I see now that I was even using “I just gotta provide more” as a kind of anxious bullshit cover story to avoid the discomfort of connection, of being vulnerable, of acknowledging my failures. I suspect this must be a pattern for a lot of absent workaholic dads around the world, and witnessing a version of that pattern in myself has, annoyingly, made me feel less righteously indignant about all those shitty dads out there. There’s some of that in me too. I could be that guy. I’m trying to be different. But I could be that guy. I have been that guy in some moments. The challenge is to be different.

Reading about Visa’s struggle with this, and the “cover story” metaphor, was very useful for me. I have my own cover stories which sound more like, “I need to provide for myself and my wife,” as well as, “I need to future proof my career,” and “I need to feel creatively fulfilled.” They all could benefit each other, and instead, sometimes it feels like each one is pulling me further from the others. 

As for what they’re covering up: the pain of failure and doubt, the effort required to start and maintain, and the need for more business to sustain the journey. The even smarter ways of saying this is, “There’s so much to feel grateful for, I feel silly for even complaining,” or, “This is all a distraction and I should just put my head down and work.” And yet.

I started writing every day to make it harder for me to avoid telling the truth. Today, there was a window for me to give you a piece of it, so I did. There is no happy ending—not yet!—and I’m learning to make peace with it.