Tuesday, 29 July 2025  Sorry Dad. A letter I never said out loud — until… | by rafa firdaus | Jul, 2025

Tuesday, 29 July 2025
Sorry Dad

A letter I never said out loud — until now.

Today, on July 29th, 2025. While I’m spending some free time, I want to try writing down what I feel right now. Not to get sympathy. I just want to be honest — with myself. With Dad. Even though I know he’ll probably never read this. And even if he does, maybe he won’t fully understand what I mean.

Now I’m 22 years old.
They say this is the age where you should “start getting serious about your future.”
I was raised with standards. Given a path. And told to walk straight on it, without even asking “why?”.

In my opinion, it’s not easy living a life that always has to meet expectations — especially those of our parents.
Yeah, I get it. They just want the best for their children.
What kind of parent doesn’t want their kid to be successful?

But behind that line, maybe — just maybe — some kids feel like they can’t express what they truly want.

So for now, I’ve been learning in silence.
I go after the things I love, even if slowly.
And I realize this might be a long journey.
But I also realize that if I keep following what everyone else says, I might end up losing myself.
And honestly, that’s the scariest part.

My dad is kind. Really kind.
If there was a tool to measure how good he is, I swear — it wouldn’t be able to.
I know he works hard for our family.
He wants me to be successful, to become someone important, and to live better than he did.
But still… sometimes I feel like I’m living just to fulfill hopes that weren’t born from my own heart.

And I start to wonder,
“Have I done everything he wanted me to do?”

Sometimes, I feel like I’ve failed.
Failed to be a son he can be proud of.
Failed to be the kind of man he wants me to be.

But I’m tired — tired of pretending to be someone I’m not.
I just want him to understand.
That if I ever succeed one day, it’s not because I followed everything he said,
but because I finally chose to believe in myself.

I don’t hate Dad.
Not at all.
I just want him to understand.

And if that day never comes,
Then at least — I tried to be honest.

Sorry, Dad.
For not being what you hoped for.