When Fathers and Daughters struggle to speak the same language

As a Marriage and Family Therapist, I have the honor and burden to look at myself in the mirror and discover more and more how I impact my relationships in good and bad ways.  

Recently, I was watching the movie “Coda” on AppleTV.  It is a movie about a deaf family (mother, father, son) and one hearing daughter.  The daughter, Ruby, discovers in an HS choir class that she can sing! Unfortunately, her parents cannot enjoy her voice, because they hear silence. There is a gap in their understanding of each other because they don't speak the same language- music, and deafness.  

Growing up with my Dad, I have felt the gap too in our understanding of each other.  My dad had a drinking problem that has negatively affected me.  I will not call him an alcoholic because as I have learned from Al-Anon (a recovery group for family members of substance abusers) only an alcoholic can call themselves one.  Part of my recovery, though, is understanding how his drinking has affected me in a negative way.  I remember in the sixth grade, I mailed a letter to our home.  It actually came in the mailbox.  When my Dad got home late one evening after teaching a Finance Graduate class, he opened it.  My letter asked him not to drink anymore.  It did not work.  But it speaks to my heart about how desperate I must have been as a little girl.

I have done a lot of work around my relationship with my Dad over the years.  I have been angry, sad, confrontational, avoidant, and ambivalent.  As I have grown older, I have allowed myself to have more and more permission to grieve what could have been if our relationship had been different.  What would my life look like if my Dad read my letter and responded in a way that helped me feel understood?  Instead, his response made me feel hopeless.  It is strange, though, that even in my hopelessness I felt loved.  I know my Dad loves me but struggles to speak my language.

I have not wept in regards to my Dad for a while even as he begins to progress through the stages of Dementia and is close to the end of his life.  It is not that I don't allow myself to, it is just that nothing has touched me deep enough to bring about the sorrow...until I saw a scene in the movie “Coda”.

This is a powerful scene after Ruby, the 17-year-old daughter, sings in a choir concert.  Her parents and brother are deaf but attend the concert anyway to support her.  As she is singing the sound in the movie moves to silence, and you begin to understand what it must be like to be deaf in a world of sound around you but you cannot hear it.  I cannot imagine the feeling of your daughter doing something so powerful and vulnerable as singing at a High School concert and not being able to hear or understand it.  

After the concert, Ruby’s family returns home and her father decides to sit on the back of his truck and “get some air”.  Ruby decides to sit with him.  

Dad: The song you sang tonight, what was it about?

Ruby: It was about….what it is to need another person.

Dad: Can you sing it for me?

Ruby: Now…(shocked)

Dad: Please.

Ruby turns towards her Dad and begins to sing softly.  Her Dad lifts his hand and puts it to her throat and then asks her to sign “Louder. More!”  He places both hands on her chest while she sings and truly tries to hear her.  He listens...even though he cannot hear her.  When she finishes, he kisses her on the forehead and they look at the stars together.

This scene...gave me permission to long for all that was lost in my own relationship with my Dad.  I did not realize until I saw this scene that I have always longed for my Dad to slow down enough to put his hands on my heart and want to really understand me.  To suspend all his judgment and fixing and just try and understand ME, his daughter.  To see all my beauty fully, a beauty he had a part in creating. That night I was able to grieve all that could have been but never was and never will be.  The floodgates of my tears flowed. And I believe tears can bring healing.  They are not to be avoided.  

As a therapist, I work with families all the time trying to work on their own relationships with their parents.  After more reflection, this scene was powerful because both father and daughter were willing to get out of their comfort zones and be vulnerable together.  Even though they did not speak the same language, her father wanted to understand his daughter.  And just as powerful, Ruby sat on the truck with her Dad.  She didn't go inside and get on her phone and avoid relationships.  She decided to step into a difficult place and sit with her Dad when she knew her Dad was most likely sad since he could not enjoy all the pieces of his daughter at the concert.

So how can fathers and daughters bridge the gap and hope to create something different?

Fathers, here are 5 tips to try and speak your daughter's language

1. Ask open-ended questions- what does she hope for?  Dream of? What worries her?  Makes her feel afraid?  Who does she admire? Why?  What kind of person frustrates her?  Why?

2. Spend time together and not just eating- I think fathers and daughters doing an activity together (esp. if Dad isn’t very good at the activity) can be a lot of fun and you can learn a lot about each other

3. Tell her how you feel about her.  Tell her why you love her.  What you admire about her.  What you felt and remember and hoped for on the day she was born.

4. Share your own vulnerabilities about your fears and worries.  This is not to make her feel responsible but it is to make her aware that you are human.  That you struggle too.

5. Ask for feedback- getting feedback from our kids without getting defensive can be very difficult.  But it can also give you a picture into what your daughter thinks of the job you are doing.  If you think about it, isn't she the one giving the performance review?  Maybe you could ask her what you did well and what you could do better.  Listen.  Don't defend.  And then try to change, if necessary.

Daughters, here are 5 tips to try and speak your father’s language

1. Be willing to share how your Dad makes you feel.  Your Dad cannot read your mind.  Give him a chance.  Even when he responds poorly and he may, don’t give up, try again. Different seasons of life will speak to us in many ways.  Perhaps he can hear you in another season.  

2. Daughters, I understand that having hard conversations with Dads can feel scary and even...useless.  But remember- you only have one Dad.  You can avoid hard conversations because it seems “easier” but that does not teach you how to step into difficult places.  It also does not give your Dad a chance to respond differently.  Over the course of my 50 years, I have had good, hard, beautiful, ugly, messy, and healing conversations with my Dad.  All of them were necessary and taught me things about myself and him.

3. Spend time together- Ruby sat on the truck with her Dad and turned TOWARDS her Dad when he asked her to sing.  She could have gone inside but she didn't.  She allowed the space and time for the conversation of her Dad knowing her.  Daughters need to allow space and time for Dads to feel comfortable to approach.  This takes courage and vulnerability on your part, daughter.

4. Try and understand your Dad.  Ask him questions about his parents- what they did well and what he wished was different.  This can give you the perspective that your Dad is doing the best he can and many times much better than what he got from his parents.  Even when his best fails us deeply, it is still his best.  Can we accept that and come to love him for trying?

5. Accept your Dad for who he is.  Acceptance in my relationship with my Dad was the biggest game-changer for me. Once I realized that I was not going to change my Dad and I needed to accept him for who he was (the good and the bad) then I was able to relax enough in my relationship with him that I was more open to having harder conversations without so many high expectations of how I think my Dad should respond.  It also allowed me to let things go and not fight every battle.  That led to a lot more peace in our relationship.

I still long for more in my relationship with my Dad.  There are gaps.  He doesn't speak my language at times, especially the older he gets, and then there are other times that we can laugh and love each other and it is deeply satisfying.  I cling to those moments.  Even if we don't speak the same language, I choose to believe that both of us are doing the best we can.

Interested in Talking to a Therapist in Birmingham, AL?

If you are feeling stuck in your relationship with your Dad we can help! At Sparrow Counseling in Birmingham, AL, we have trained, experienced therapists who create a safe therapeutic environment that is tailored to your unique family dynamics. We want to meet you and help empower you to explore your relationship and help find a way to heal and move forward. To get started follow these three simple steps:

1. Reach out to Sparrow Counseling for a free 15-minute consultation.

2. Be matched with a caring, experienced therapist.

3. Begin your healing journey with empathy, compassion, and support.

Sara Hadgraft, the owner of Sparrow Counseling, is an M.Ed, LMFT, LPC, NCC, Certified Parenting Coordinator, Divorce and Family Mediator (Domestic Violence Trained) has a private practice called Sparrow Counseling in Birmingham, AL.  She specializes in Parenting Coordination, Co-Parenting Counseling, and Divorce and Family Mediation.  Her passion is helping parents learn how to become successful coparents, so their children can thrive after their divorce.  Contact Sparrow Counseling if you are interested in getting help at hello@sparrowcounsel.com.