The Father Wound
How I searched for love and found my true identity
Ben Fuller
I grew up on a dairy farm in Vermont. If you’ve never been on a farm before, let me tell you—it’s not easy. It’s up before the sun, working until you can’t feel your hands, and knowing the cows don’t care if you’re tired, sick, or just want a break. The work never stops. And neither did I.
From the outside, it looked like a good life. But inside? I was just a kid trying to prove myself—especially to my dad. I don’t ever remember him saying, I love you. Not once.
My dad always wanted to be a dairy farmer. Bought his first cows when he was 19 years old. By the time I came along, he had about 180 cows—and I was expected to work just as hard as any farmhand.
Being the only son of a farmer means you don’t have a choice. Cows get milked twice a day, every day—before school, after school, in between football practice, and anywhere else in my life it might fit in. That was my childhood. No excuses. No breaks. No time to just be a kid.
Looking back, I realize I just wanted to hear one thing from my dad. “You’re doing great, son; I’m proud of you,” or “I love you.” But that never happened. In my family, love wasn’t spoken.
Fighting for Approval
It wasn’t just that my dad never said those words—he never heard them from his father either. He was raised believing that love had to be earned. And so, without meaning to, he handed that down to me.
I spent my entire childhood trying to be enough for him. Trying to be strong enough, tough enough, good enough. But no matter how hard I worked, it never seemed like I measured up.
The Breaking Point
I remember the exact day everything changed. It was quiet on the farm—too quiet. I knew where my dad kept the bullets for the rifle that hung on the living room wall. I wasn’t tall enough to reach the cabinet, so I got a step stool, grabbed them, and slid them into my pocket.
I walked into the woods with that rifle.
Something happens when you see your life flash before your eyes.
I saw the funeral line.
I saw my friends talking about me after I was gone.
I saw my mom—crying, broken, devastated.
And suddenly, I couldn’t do it. I pulled the gun from my mouth, and when it hit the leaves, I just left it there. I didn’t feel relief. I didn’t feel hope. I just felt… nothing.
But that was the moment I knew—I couldn’t keep living like this.
The Father Who Speaks Love
Maybe you know what it’s like to wait for words that never come. Maybe you’ve spent your life trying to prove your worth to someone who never sees you. Or maybe—like me—you’ve believed the lie that love has to be earned.
God is not like our earthly fathers.
“Though my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will receive me” (Psalm 27:10 NIV). God’s love isn’t based on performance. It’s not about how hard you work or whether you measure up. He loves you because you’re His.
If you’ve never heard someone say I love you—hear this now: God loves you. He has always loved you.
Just Take One Step Forward
If this post resonates with you, take a moment and ask yourself:
- Am I carrying wounds from a father who didn’t know how to love me?
- Have I believed the lie that I have to work for love?
- What would it look like to let God’s love be enough?
If you’re struggling, you’re not alone. And if you need help, don’t be afraid to reach out. Whether it’s to a pastor, a friend, or even just whispering a prayer—you don’t have to fight for love.
God has already chosen you.
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