DAD’S CLASS AT
Clarity Clinic
I sat in my truck outside Clarity Clinic, hands gripping the steering wheel, staring at the entrance. My breath felt heavy, my chest tight. I didn’t want to be here, and I didn’t want to admit that everything was falling apart.
I’d attended church my whole life and thought my life had a plan. College, a degree, maybe marriage—eventually. Then came the pregnancy. I wanted to do the right thing. I wanted to step up and be the man I knew I should be. But no matter how hard I tried, our relationship never worked. We broke up, tried again, failed again. And now, here I was, in my twenties, dropped out of school, stuck in a dead-end job, and watching my son grow up in a home that didn’t include me.
I exhaled, forced my legs to move, and walked into the Dad’s Class at Clarity Clinic. I didn’t know what I expected—maybe just a room full of guys who, like me, felt lost. And that’s what I found. Each of us carried our own struggles. One guy had lost a brother. Another had buried a child. Someone else was struggling to hold down a job. And then there was me—failing at school, failing at relationships, failing at everything.
At first, I just listened. I didn’t want to talk about my life, my mess. But week after week, the conversations got deeper. We talked about work, family, and what it means to provide. And somewhere in those discussions, I began to realize the truth—I had been trying to force a future with my girlfriend that wasn’t going to happen.
I accepted the teacher’s offer to meet one-on-one because I needed help figuring out what was next.
“So, what’s your plan?” he asked me during our first session.
I sighed. “I wanted us to be a family. I wanted my son to grow up with both of us. But my girlfriend—she doesn’t want that.” I clenched my fists. “I don’t understand how she can just walk away.”He nodded like he’d heard it before. “You had an expectation, and when expectations don’t match reality, we struggle. But here’s the hard question—was she ever on the same page as you?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. No, she hadn’t been. I just wanted her to be.
“People make their own choices,” he continued. “Jesus himself let people walk away. The rich young ruler asked Him what he needed to do, and when Jesus told him, the man was sad and walked off. Jesus didn’t chase him down. He let him choose.”
I shifted in my chair, uncomfortable with the direction this was taking. “So, you’re saying I have to just let her go?”
“I’m saying you can’t control her choices. But you can control yours.”
That thought stuck with me. I had been fighting for something I couldn’t fix, but that didn’t mean I had to stop fighting altogether. I just needed to fight for the right things.
The next week, we talked about forgiveness.
“I don’t know if I can do that,” I admitted. “How do I forgive someone who gave up on our family?”
He leaned forward. “Forgiveness isn’t about saying what she did was okay. It’s about letting go of the weight you’re carrying.”
I let his words sink in. He talked about forgiveness in a way I’d never heard before. I had been dragging my anger like a chain, blaming her, blaming myself, stuck in the past. But that wasn’t helping my son. It wasn’t helping me.“What do you really want?” he asked.
“To be a good dad,” I answered without hesitation.“Then let’s make a plan for that.”
I went home that night and reflected on everything we had discussed. The next morning, I made a decision.
I called my son’s mother. We worked out a plan for co-parenting—a real one that focused on our son’s needs, not our failed relationship. I chose to respect her role as his mother, even if we couldn’t be together.
Then, I re-enrolled in school. At first, I was terrified. What if I failed again? What if I couldn’t focus? But this time was different. This time, I had a purpose. I wasn’t in school for a dream relationship—I was there for my son.
A few months passed. My focus sharpened. My grades climbed. I worked part-time and kept my eyes on the future. And for the first time in a long time, I felt free.
It wasn’t easy. Co-parenting had its challenges. School took discipline. But through it all, I remembered what I had learned at Clarity Clinic:
I can’t control other people’s choices.
I can forgive without erasing the past.
I can build the future I want—one choice at a time.
Now, I’m there for my son—fully present, fully engaged, the father I always wanted to be.
Looking back, I realize that everything started to change when I walked into that first Dad’s Class at Clarity Clinic, sat down, and decided to listen.
Clarity Clinic’s Fatherhood Program equips dads with essential parenting skills, support, and mentor ship to build strong, responsible, and engaged father-child relationships.