Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there.

And a special shout out to all you single dads showing up like rockstars (in a good way… not the drunk and high and never on time way)… okay maybe not rockstars. How about showing up like the best dad ever.

Like most people, my dad holds a special place in my heart. He is who I practiced being really honest with, who I had hard conversations with, he taught me that life is meant to be enjoyed. and to accept yourself. I super appreciate that type of relationship.

After my parents got a divorce, I eventually moved in with my dad. In my opinion, single dads don’t get enough attention or credit. He didn’t receive child support or any other form of assistance. And I worked to help pay for myself to do things, including sports, vet bills for my dog (that my dad surprised me with one year for my birthday after I had been begging for one for years), and even some medical visits.

We had a great time. He spent so much time with me. Eating dinner together, playing games with me and my friends. He was really involved. Moving away to college was hard to say goodbye. He cried but hid it from me. But I knew. I cried too. It was a big change, but an exciting one.

He has only met my son one time for one day. I realized a couple of years ago, I’ve been gone from home longer than I lived there. My dad and I don’t see each other often, we text here and there, and talk on the phone every once in a while. Though I know he loves me and he loves me the best he can.

Some of the best advice I ever received, I got from my dad when I was in middle school.

He told me that I had to express my anger. That I couldn’t hold it all inside. If I do try to hold it all inside, I would explode and burn everyone around me, like a little volcano.

This stuck with me. I didn’t really resemble the volcano, but I was definitely working through anxiety. It would still take me 10 years before I fully realized and accepted that I could give myself permission to feel angry.

Before I really let that set in and understand that anger didn’t make me bad or mean, it just made me human.

Apparently, I was on a mission to not be human. I thought I needed to be perfect and perfect people didn’t feel anger. Anger was the enemy. Anger made me like the cruel people in the world, so I feared feeling angry.

This fear of my own anger and other people’s anger made me a doormat. I was the queen of people pleasers and it was crushing my soul. I guess my dad could see this in me and didn’t want that for my life.

I did attempt to tell people when my feelings were hurt. This didn’t go well. Instead of being met with compassion, I was met with people calling me a baby, telling me I was too sensitive, and that I was the only one in the world who would be hurt by that action or statement.

I guess their parents didn’t talk to them about the importance of expressing emotions and hearing others. At the time, I believed them and I started to question my own feelings.

My dad always told me not to worry about them. That I was made of something else that they weren’t and it was good to be different. He knew I’d make it in life because of who I was, sensitive and all.

This father’s day, it made me think about you and how your dad has shown up in your life. The bad advice he has given you and the really good stuff you carry with you.

Or if you even know who your dad is or how involv...