The Relationship That Shaped Me Most

“A strict father doesn’t show love in hugs or kind words—he shows it in boundaries, discipline, and the strength he builds in you. ”

What relationships have had a positive impact on me? When I really think about it, the answer might surprise some people. It wasn’t the easy ones filled with warm hugs and soft words. The relationship that had the greatest impact on me was with my father. And he wasn’t the gentle, “I love you” type of dad. He was strict, intense, and often hard to read. As a kid, I feared him. I spent a lot of time wondering if he was in a bad mood or if I would do something that set him off. I always felt like I needed to stay on my toes.

But here’s the twist: that relationship built me. It shaped the person I became more than any other influence in my life. My father believed his purpose was to provide and to raise strong, capable adults who could stand on their own two feet. Affection wasn’t his language. Discipline was. Respect was. Hard work was.

He taught me things I didn’t appreciate until long after the lessons were over. Fishing every Saturday wasn’t just about catching fish. That was his classroom. He showed me how to use tools, how to think ahead, how to solve problems without whining about them. He opened my eyes to the world — real injustices faced by Native Americans and Black Americans, the idea that everyone deserves dignity and fairness. He lived by the Golden Rule, always treating people with respect and expecting the same in return.

We would argue about politics until we were both blue in the face. He was the liberal and I was the young conservative, convinced I knew more than he did. Years later, I find myself shaking my head at how often his points turned out to be right. Experience has a funny way of making you rethink those old debates.

He never raised a hand to me. Never cursed at me. Never drank in front of me. But he also never told me he loved me or that he was proud of me. As a kid, that bothered me deeply. I desperately wanted to hear those words. What I didn’t understand then was that his love showed up in what he did, not what he said.

I would stand next to him while he worked on a project, hands in my pockets, just watching. He would glance up and bark, “Hand me the hammer! Weren’t you paying attention?” I remember thinking, how am I supposed to know what tool you need next? But eventually, I did know. I learned to anticipate. To observe. To be useful. That one skill changed the way I approached work, business, leadership — everything.

He trusted people almost to a fault. He believed if you treated others with honesty and fairness, they would respond in kind. He would pay a contractor before the job was done or tip a waiter before he even ordered. I inherited that approach to life. And yes, I’ve been burned by it more times than I care to admit. Deals gone bad, tenants who took advantage, contractors who disappeared after the check cleared. But even with the disappointments, I still choose trust over cynicism. I don’t want to become someone who expects the worst from everyone. Living with integrity is worth more to me than the money lost along the way.

As I look back, I finally understand that my father wasn’t cold or unloving. He was tough because life is tough, and he wanted me prepared for it. He built my backbone. He gave me a moral compass. He pushed me to think, to observe, to stand strong, and to treat people the right way even when they don’t return the favor.

So yes, strict fathers get a bad reputation sometimes. They can seem distant or harsh. But if you’re lucky enough to have one who does it out of love, you will eventually see the gift he gave you. Because boundaries are love. High expectations are love. Preparing your child for real life is love.

And that relationship, the one I once feared, became the most positive and transformative relationship of my life. That’s the one that made me who I am.