The Generational Curse
I could never understand my Mum’s point of view.
Why him?
Why… Dad?
It is normal for girls to have their fathers as their superheroes. They are their protectors, their provider, their best friend.
I wish that was the case for me.
I was always green with envy when I saw my friend’s father waiting patiently for her at the school gate, welcoming her with a warm embrace every day.
“Where’s mine?”
I had vague memories of early childhood of Dad picking me up from kindergarten and going on a shopping trip with mum afterwards; of him raising me up and placing me upon his shoulders, tickling my feet. I remembered dad smothering me with his beard and laughed as I got annoyed at the sensation. Somewhere along the line, something changed drastically and Dad turned into a stranger whom I did not recognize. From someone who occasionally took us out on family trips, cruises, he became more distant, closed up, and kept to himself most of the time.
I remembered striking up a conversation with Mum regarding this topic a few years ago.
“When we were dating, he never behaved this way… Not even during the early stages of our marriage. Ever since he worked on the Cruise, he was introduced to alcohol and it changed him completely…”
Granted, dad had some anger issues before, but he was never violent. The main culprit— the reaper of joy named Alcohol turned him into a bitter, angrier person. As kids, my siblings and I learned to navigate ourselves around him— we had to tiptoe on eggshells, being constantly afraid that our words or actions might provoke him to anger or trigger him unintentionally, for this would lead to an event in which he would drink alcohol and unleash the monster within.
I vowed to never marry someone like him when I grow up.
When dad was his happy self, he would take me on piggy back rides, lift me up in the air and sing happy songs to me while he cuddled me to sleep. On the flip side, his drunk side did not like me: he would lay his hands on me and make me feel unworthy by all the names he called me.
The little me wondered if she could ever get anything right in life, or if Dad ever truly loved me.
I craved a stable, happy home. Above all, I longed for a loving relationship with my dad.
Alcohol robbed it all. It stole our joy and peace at home in exchange for chaos, fear and violence. It destroyed my home and I hated it with every fiber of my being.
Fast forward, I went to law school, marking a major milestone in my life. I did not know how things turned out for the better, or what launched me onto an elite social status. People who knew me from high school could easily testify that the law school Min was a stark contrast from who she used to be: an awkward, weird kid that nobody wanted to be friends with—a wallflower, an outcast, an underdog.
“Party this Friday, Soho?”
“Bet. I’ll be there!.”
Thus began the “glorious era” of my life. Before long, I started frequenting pubs and exclusive nightclubs with my friends, squandering my youth away. For the first time ever, I was not invisible anymore: I was in the inner circle of the coolest people in town as I hung out with models, business owners, etc. People actually like me! Guys started chatting me up and asking for my number, and I enjoyed the attention thoroughly, soaking it all up as I went.
What I did not realize was the depth of male intimacy I craved from my dad was replaced by attention from multiple guys whom I’ve dated, one after the other. I was spoiled with fancy dinners, gifts, flattering words and seemingly loving gestures towards me. I fell into the deep pit of needing this type of affirmation that I have never gotten from my own father. It felt good to be wanted, to be cherished, to be loved.
I wanted to keep this status for a long time, and was willing to do whatever it took to be there. For the first time, I belonged somewhere others could only dream of being, adored and worshiped by many. I was on cloud nine.
However, there was a heavy price to pay: the very substance I loathed the most became the very thing I could not live without. I turned into the very person who had lost my respect to begin with. Worst of all, I manifested his violent tendencies towards my loved ones when I was drunk.
I came home one morning at 4am, only to find my Mum in the living room waiting for me. Knowing her, she would barrage me with an array of annoying questions. After a long night, all I really wanted was to rest my head on the pillow. I walked by, hoping that she would leave me alone.
She did not.
What happened next shocked the drunkenness out of me. Seething anger and resentment started taking over, and before I knew it, I shoved my mum up against the wall, warning her to leave me alone, my fist clenched.
I could never forget the way she looked at me, wide eyed and shocked at my behavior. For the first time ever, I saw fear in her eyes that I’ve never seen before…
Fear towards me.
“Min, you’ve never done this before. Who are you?”
All the resentment and anger immediately melted away, a pang of regret rushed over me. I was ashamed as I let go of my grip on my Mum’s shirt. What happened to me? Who had I become?
“Mum, I have no idea what happened… I’m sorry!”
“You’re exactly like your dad! Don’t you see who you’ve turned into?”
She was right.
Alas, the apple did not fall too far off from the tree. I became the exact person whom I resented most, consuming the exact substance I hated, just for the sake of acceptance and the false sense of love that I craved for, but never gotten from my father. The broken relationship between Dad and I subconsciously formed my identity into this attention-deprived, broken young woman.
That evening was a rude awakening. I stayed up all night apologizing to my mum as she sobbed in disappointment and heartache. We spoke about how Dad used to be and the changes that took place. It turned out that he too, was broken, hurt by his father who deeply betrayed his trust. He carried the grudge from early years of his life till that very day. Eventually, alcohol became his getaway from pain. Like me, his identity was shaped by his broken relationship with his father, formed by defensive detachment.
Although I was not a Christian then, I understood the immediate course of action— this toxic cycle must come to an end. In order to stop this generational curse from passing down to the next, I had to break free from this iron grip of vice, replacing it with something better in life.
Through my experience, I realized the importance of healthy masculinity in the family. The father figure plays an important role in shaping his children’s character. In the Bible, David expected Solomon to walk with God, to bring in the exact masculinity that he exemplified over the years. (1 Kings 2:3-4) Indeed, Solomon walked in David’s footsteps, honoring God in a great capacity. However, he fell in the very same temptation that ensnared his father— the lust for women.
As my curious mind churned at this very thought, I cannot help but wonder, what if David withstood the temptation of his lust for women? If he resisted taking many wives and concubines and chose to remain monogamous, would it make a difference in his sons’ lives? If David set a good example for Solomon in handling his marriage, there might be a greater probability of him following in his father’s footsteps. Then Solomon would not be persuaded to stray away from God by the heathen women he took as concubines, because there would be none. (1 Kings 11:4)
However, Solomon’s sins of adultery and womanizing caused a great divide in the nation as the northern kingdom went into apostasy immediately, only to be destroyed a little more than 200 years later. The southern kingdom lasted longer as their faithfulness towards God fluctuated until they were made captives by King Nebuchadnezzar. David’s sin had a hold on Solomon, which snowballed into the kingdom’s ruin due to idolatry at the very end of Solomon’s life when he took heathens as his wives. Something seemingly small and selfish, if not curbed, carries a catastrophic effect.
Hence the influence of fathers at home can not be overlooked, for it is pivotal to their children’s salvation. In order to cultivate healthy masculinity in the family, the head of the family (the father) must consecrate himself to the Lord and to His will always. Only then the human father figure will be changed into God’s image, and loves his family like how Christ loves the church (2 Cor 3:18; Eph 5:25). As children take up the examples of their father, with Christ leading the head of the household, they too, will grow up in the love of Jesus, basking in His glory. Their identity will then be firmly rooted and secured in the Lord, unswayed by any identity crisis issues which plague our society currently—and continue to sweep in like a tidal wave.
Looking back, I am grateful that I found “something better” later in life, albeit my relationship with my father was healed and restored. Dad turned his life around and became a loving father and husband to my family. However, I still needed God as my ultimate Father figure. Instead of endlessly seeking for human affirmation, I found peace, love and acceptance in Jesus. Like the woman at the well, being a follower of Christ liberated me from the need for attention of men. In Him, the generational curse is broken as I am no longer chained to my past. It is a privilege to be shaped and molded by Christ, and I have faith that He has begun a good work in me will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus. (Eph. 1:6) “Yet, Lord, you are our father; we are the clay and you our potter: we are all the work of your hand. (Isa. 64:7)
