Episode 107 – How Forgiving My Dad Rewrote My Reality

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Note: This blog post serves as an accompaniment to the corresponding podcast episode of A Changed Mind, where we’ll distill down the core ideas of this week’s theme, along with additional distinctions and insights. If you haven’t listened to the episode yet, you can go here to do so.  Enjoy.

If you’re feeling blocked in life—whether it’s in your career, relationships, or personal fulfillment—it’s likely that the next level of your growth isn’t in another strategy or mindset shift. It might be something deeper, something often overlooked: forgiving your father.

I know what you might be thinking: “I don’t need to forgive my dad. I had a great childhood. My father was a good man.” But after working with thousands of people in personal development, I can tell you with certainty—everyone carries some level of resentment toward their parents. And in today’s conversation, we’re focusing on dad.

It’s not about whether he was a good father or not. It’s about understanding that, as children, we sought unconditional love from imperfect, conditioned beings—people who had their own struggles, traumas, and limitations. And somewhere along the way, whether we realize it or not, we formed a resentment.

That resentment, if left unaddressed, anchors itself to limiting beliefs that keep us stuck. If you’ve been working on overcoming certain patterns, yet find yourself falling into the same loops of frustration, doubt, or unworthiness, I’d bet everything that underneath it all is an unresolved resentment that needs to be transformed into forgiveness.

The Story That Changed Everything

I want to share a personal story with you—one that cracked open a powerful realization about my own father.

A few years ago, I hosted the biggest live event I had ever done. My business had been growing, and I had transitioned into a new career helping people transform their lives. This event was a culmination of years of hard work, and I was beyond excited to have my dad in the audience. More than anything, I wanted him to be proud of me.

At lunchtime on the first day, I stepped outside to get some fresh air, and my dad came over. In my mind, I had built up this moment—I imagined he would be overflowing with pride, telling me how incredible this event was, how amazed he was by what I had created.

Instead, he looked around and said, “Wow, this is really something.”

That’s it. That’s all he said.

And in that moment, a flood of emotions hit me. That’s it? That’s all you can say after everything I’ve built? Years of seeking his approval, years of wanting to prove myself, all culminating in this moment—and it felt like a letdown.

At first, I was frustrated. I even thought, Wow, my dad’s kind of an asshole.

But then, after sitting with it, I had an even bigger realization: I was the one bringing resentment into the relationship. My dad wasn’t withholding love or approval—I was holding onto a belief that I had to earn it in the first place.

And that belief? It had shaped so much of my life.

I started thinking about all the years I had spent trying to prove myself, not just to my dad, but to the world. I realized that my drive to succeed wasn’t just about passion or ambition—it was rooted in a deep-seated belief that I needed to accomplish something impressive enough to be worthy of love. That realization hit me hard.

Looking back, I could see how this need for validation had played out in my life. I pushed myself relentlessly, chasing bigger achievements, setting higher and higher bars, all in the hope that at some point, I’d finally arrive. That I’d finally feel seen. That I’d finally be enough.

But here’s the kicker: that moment never came. No achievement, no accolade, no success ever gave me the feeling I was searching for. Because the validation I was seeking could never come from outside of me. It had to come from within.

And in that moment, I started to see my dad differently. He wasn’t failing to give me something—I was expecting him to fulfill a role he never signed up for. I was expecting him to be the ultimate source of my self-worth, and that was never his job.

I also started thinking about my dad’s own journey. What were his struggles? What expectations did he carry from his own childhood? Had he, too, spent years trying to prove something to his father? The more I reflected, the more I realized that my dad was just a man—flawed, human, and doing the best he could with what he knew.

That shift in perspective was everything. It didn’t just change how I saw my father—it changed how I saw myself.

From that moment on, I made a decision: I was going to stop living for validation. I was going to release the weight of expectation I had placed on my father and, in doing so, release the burden I had placed on myself. Because true freedom doesn’t come from getting approval—it comes from letting go of the need for it.

The Link Between Resentment and Limiting Beliefs

As I reflected more deeply on my relationship with my father, I began to see a pattern. The resentment I held toward him wasn’t just about that one moment at the event. It was a thread woven throughout my life—tied to beliefs that had subtly shaped my actions, decisions, and self-perception.

Resentment is a powerful thing. It doesn’t just stay confined to a single memory or feeling. It embeds itself into the subconscious, coloring how we see the world and ourselves. And in my case, my resentment toward my father had led me to adopt limiting beliefs that dictated my entire way of being.

I started identifying these beliefs, and they all traced back to the same source:

I have to be successful to be loved.

I need external validation to prove my worth.

If I’m not constantly achieving, I’m not enough.

People won’t respect me unless I earn it.

These weren’t just idle thoughts; they were core narratives that had shaped my personal and professional life. They drove me to overwork, to push beyond my limits, to chase achievement after achievement—all in the hope that someday, I’d feel like I was enough.

But as I started questioning these beliefs, I realized something important: they weren’t true. They were stories I had created to make sense of my experiences. And because I believed them, I kept reinforcing them—continuing to live my life in a way that made them seem real.

The moment I started questioning them, the foundation they stood on began to crumble. I saw how my resentment toward my father had trickled into other areas of my life—how it had shaped my interactions with colleagues, friends, and even my own self-worth. And the more I understood this, the more I knew I had to let it go.

Resentment acts like an anchor. It ties us to a past that no longer serves us. It keeps us reliving the same pain, the same disappointments, the same struggles—over and over again. And until we release it, we remain stuck.

Understanding this was one thing. But taking action—actually letting go of my resentment—was something else entirely.

Understanding the Layers of Resentment

Resentment doesn’t happen overnight. It builds in layers, shaped by repeated experiences, unmet expectations, and unspoken emotions. It begins in childhood when we unknowingly assign meaning to interactions with our parents. Over time, these meanings solidify into beliefs—beliefs about ourselves, about love, and about our worthiness.

One of the biggest realizations I had was that resentment often stems from a misunderstanding. As children, we see the world through a limited lens. We don’t understand the stress our parents carry, the emotional burdens they bear, or the circumstances that shape their actions. Instead, we experience gaps in their attention, affection, or approval, and we interpret those gaps as personal shortcomings.

For example, if a father works long hours and isn’t around much, a child might internalize that as, “I’m not important” or “I must not be lovable.” The reality, however, is often far different. Perhaps that father was breaking his back to provide a better life, showing love the only way he knew how. But the child doesn’t see that—only the absence remains.

As these interpretations repeat over the years, they become ingrained patterns. Every time a parent fails to meet our unspoken expectations, the belief is reinforced. The resentment grows—not just toward them, but toward ourselves. We start believing that if we were somehow better, we would have received more love, more approval, more recognition.

And then, without realizing it, we carry these beliefs into adulthood. We project them onto other relationships—our partners, our bosses, our friends. The unmet expectations of childhood play out in new ways, keeping us trapped in cycles of frustration and disappointment.

Understanding the layers of resentment means recognizing that the beliefs we formed as children are not necessarily true. They were interpretations, not facts. And just as we once unconsciously built them, we now have the power to consciously dismantle them.

The Turning Point: Finding Forgiveness

Recognizing resentment is only the first step. The real transformation happens when we actively work toward forgiveness. But let’s be honest—letting go of resentment isn’t always easy. It’s not as simple as saying, “I forgive you” and suddenly feeling free. Forgiveness is a process, and it requires deep internal work.

For me, the turning point came when I stopped seeing my father as an authority figure and started seeing him as a human being. A man shaped by his own experiences, carrying his own wounds, and doing the best he could with the tools he had. When I looked at him from that perspective, something shifted. I saw his struggles, his limitations, and his attempts to show love in the only ways he knew how.

I also realized that forgiveness isn’t about excusing or justifying someone’s actions. It’s about releasing yourself from the grip of the pain and resentment that’s holding you back. Holding onto anger toward my father didn’t change him—it only kept me stuck in an emotional loop of frustration and unworthiness. Letting go was the only way I could be free.

One of the most powerful tools I used in this process was writing. I wrote down every belief I had about my father and examined each one. Was it true? Or was it just my perception? Did my father intentionally withhold love, or was he simply loving me in the only way he knew? Asking these questions helped me dismantle the mental prison I had built around our relationship.

Another crucial step was shifting my focus from what I didn’t receive to what I did. My father may not have been emotionally expressive, but he showed his love through actions—providing for our family, teaching me the value of hard work, and always being there in his own way. When I started acknowledging those things, my resentment lost its grip.

Forgiveness wasn’t an instant event; it was a practice. Each time an old wound surfaced, I reminded myself of my new perspective. And over time, I noticed something amazing—my interactions with my father changed. Not because he had changed, but because I no longer placed expectations on him to be someone he wasn’t. I had freed myself from that need, and in doing so, I had also freed him.

Rewriting the Narrative

Forgiving my father wasn’t just about healing our relationship—it was about transforming how I saw myself. The way we perceive our parents often mirrors how we perceive the world and our place in it. If we carry resentment toward them, we likely carry that same energy into other relationships, our work, and even our self-worth.

Once I started to see my father in a new light, I also started to see myself differently. I realized that for years, I had built my identity around needing to prove something—to my father, to society, even to myself. But once I let go of the resentment, I could finally release that burden.

Instead of seeing my father as someone who should have been different, I started appreciating him for who he was. And that shift didn’t just affect our relationship—it freed me from years of internal struggle. I no longer needed to chase external validation because I understood that I was already enough. My worth wasn’t dependent on what my father thought of me, or how much I had achieved—it was something I carried within me all along.

Rewriting the narrative of my relationship with my father also helped me rewrite my own story. It allowed me to release limiting beliefs, step into a greater sense of peace, and move forward with a new sense of clarity. I realized that I had the power to change how I experienced life—not by waiting for someone else to change, but by shifting my own perspective.

When we stop seeing our parents through the lens of past wounds and instead see them as human beings, we create space for healing, growth, and transformation. And in that space, we find true freedom.

Practical Steps to Let Go of Resentment

Recognizing the need to forgive is one thing—actually letting go is another. True healing requires action, and while forgiveness is a deeply personal journey, there are practical steps that can help you move forward.

1. Acknowledge Your Resentment

Before you can release resentment, you have to fully acknowledge it. Take time to reflect on the emotions and beliefs you’ve carried regarding your father. Write them down without judgment. What recurring thoughts do you have about your relationship? Where do you still feel hurt or misunderstood?

2. Challenge the Story You’ve Been Telling Yourself

Resentment is often fueled by a narrative we’ve repeated for years. Ask yourself: Is my interpretation of the past the absolute truth? Or is it just one perspective? Consider alternative viewpoints. Could your father have been showing love in ways you didn’t recognize? Could he have been carrying his own wounds that influenced his actions?

3. Practice Empathy

Empathy is a powerful tool for transformation. Think about your father’s life circumstances. What challenges did he face? What beliefs and limitations shaped his ability to express love? Recognizing his humanity doesn’t excuse any pain he may have caused, but it helps dissolve the anger and blame that fuel resentment.

4. Shift from Expectation to Acceptance

One of the biggest reasons resentment lingers is because we hold onto expectations of how things should have been. But clinging to what didn’t happen only prolongs suffering. Accepting your father for who he was—not who you wished he had been—allows you to reclaim your emotional freedom.

5. Release Resentment Through Writing

Journaling can be a powerful way to process and release stored emotions. Write a letter to your father—not one you’ll necessarily send, but one that allows you to express your feelings fully. Write about what hurt you, what you wish he had done differently, and then, if you’re ready, write about what you’re willing to release.

6. Cultivate Gratitude for What You Did Receive

Even if your father fell short in certain ways, look for the gifts he did give you. Maybe he worked hard to provide, even if he wasn’t emotionally present. Maybe he taught you resilience, discipline, or strength in his own way. Shifting your focus to gratitude lightens the emotional weight you carry.

7. Let Go for Your Own Freedom, Not Theirs

Forgiveness is not about letting someone off the hook; it’s about freeing yourself. Holding onto resentment doesn’t punish the other person—it only keeps you trapped in pain. Letting go is an act of self-liberation. You are choosing peace over the weight of the past.

8. Seek Support If Needed

Sometimes, deep emotional wounds require outside help. Whether through therapy, coaching, or a trusted confidant, having a safe space to process your emotions can make the journey easier.

Forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting. It means choosing to release the past so you can step fully into the present. When you let go of resentment, you open the door to more love, peace, and fulfillment—not just in your relationship with your father, but in your relationship with yourself.

Moving Forward with Peace and Freedom

Forgiveness is not a one-time act—it’s a journey. It’s a conscious decision to release the past, to let go of the weight that has kept you tethered to pain, and to step into a life of greater peace, emotional freedom, and clarity.

The process of forgiving your father, or anyone else who has left an imprint on your life, is ultimately about you. It’s about freeing yourself from the burdens of expectation, rewriting the story you tell yourself, and allowing healing to unfold.

By embracing empathy, shifting your perspective, and practicing gratitude, you reclaim the power that resentment once held over you. And as you do, you’ll find that your relationships—not just with your father, but with everyone—begin to transform. The heaviness lifts, space opens up, and life starts to flow with greater ease.

Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself. And in choosing it, you choose freedom.