The Voice in My Head: A Father's Day Night Reflection on 'Reparenting' and Fatherhood

When you are alone and quiet, how does the voice in your head speak to you?

"Hurry up! You have to try harder! You're falling behind!"

Doesn't it rush you or stir up anxiety like that?

Or is it, "It's okay. You're doing fine. You've come a long way."

Is it a voice that is kind and full of hope like that?

What about when you fail?

"You're no good. You're really useless."

Does it berate you like that?

Or is it a voice that encourages you, saying, "Things didn't go well. But that's okay. You can learn from this again."

1. Thoughts on Father's Day

Last Sunday was Father's Day. That night, I suddenly found myself thinking about this.


"When did the voice in my head change?"

Compared to the past, I am now able to talk to myself in a much calmer, kinder voice.

I believe that was a major change that affected not just my inner world, but my relationships with others and my entire way of living.

But in the past, it wasn't like that.

In fact, it was the exact opposite.

What echoed inside me for so long was a cold, harsh, and unforgiving voice.

"You're no good," "Do more," "What are you doing?"

I always felt like I was being blamed for something somewhere.

But that wasn't "my voice" from the beginning.

I think that was someone else's voice that I had unconsciously inherited.

2. The "Voice" I Grew Up With

My father was a man who used corporal punishment and verbal abuse.

When he got frustrated, he would get physical.

When I couldn't do something well, he would yell at me, calling me "useless," "lazy," or "hopeless."

I think I had ADHD and Asperger's (what is now called Autism Spectrum Disorder).

But back then, no one understood that.

I was just seen as "restless," "unable to concentrate," and "a child who couldn't meet expectations."

And I gradually started to believe myself that I was "broken" and "a problem child."

Children don't yet have the filters to protect themselves.

That's why they absorb the words and attitudes of adults just as they are.

Before I knew it, my father's angry voice had become "my own voice" inside me.

3. I Became a Father, But Had No Role Model

When I became a father myself, I was honestly very confused.

In particular, I couldn't connect well with my eldest daughter.

"How can I become a good father?"

I had absolutely no idea.

How do I show kindness? How should I communicate when I need to scold her?

Even when I read books, it felt somewhat "artificial," and I couldn't do it naturally.

Especially when she entered adolescence and started valuing her own will and sense of distance, I was completely bewildered.

Before I knew it, I had returned to my "accustomed ways."

Criticizing, controlling, and shutting down—

Just as my father had done to me.

I had hurt my daughter.

And I myself was in a lot of pain.

It was then that I finally realized:

"Unless I first change how I relate to myself, I cannot change how I relate to my children."

Because the words and attitudes I directed toward myself—

were being directed toward my daughter as well.

4. What the "Absent Father" Left Behind

However, this is not just my story.

I feel that similar things are happening in Japan and around the world.

As industrialization has progressed, the idea that "work equals one's value" has become the norm.

In that process, many men have come to "disconnect their hearts from their families."

'I'm busy with work,' 'I'm working for the family.'

Fathers who have ended up not facing their children with excuses like those.

Even in the world of religion, there have been no shortage of men who chose 'domination and control' over kindness.

The truth is, that's because they themselves never had the experience of being 'properly loved'.

Originally, I believe the role a father should fulfill is warmth, guidance, and the power to watch over.

But somewhere along the way, we lost sight of that figure.

Of course, it was very important that the world raised its voice against the imposition of masculinity, saying, 'That's not right.'

But at the same time, I feel as though we have also lost sight of a 'truly healthy image of a father.'

Men who abandoned their roles as fathers or could only interact through violence—they, too, may have been wounded children who grew up without being loved by anyone.

Children who grow up in homes without a father, or with a father who is 'emotionally absent,' have a gaping hole somewhere in their hearts.

And if left that way, that void is unconsciously passed on to the next generation.

We have to break this 'chain' somewhere.

That is what I have come to think.

5. When I saw my father as a 'human being,' I was finally able to forgive him

One of the triggers for my change was psychological counseling and therapy.

In that process, I gradually began to see my father from a different angle.

Until then, I could only think of him as a 'scary presence' or 'someone who hurt me.'

But in the dialogue with my counselor, I gradually began to think this way.

'Perhaps he, too, was a wounded child.'

My father was also someone who grew up in violence and indifference during his own childhood.

Someone who grew up without being able to rely on anyone and without knowing how to handle his own emotions.

Of course, that doesn't 'justify' what he did to me.

But I chose to forgive.

Because that was the path to setting myself free.

If I remained trapped in hatred, I would never be able to escape that pain for the rest of my life.

And above all—

because even now, the feeling of loving my father remained somewhere inside me.

6. What kind of person is a good father?

There is no such thing as a perfect father.

However, there are things I think are essential.

• Always being 'there'
  A watchful gaze, a little word of encouragement, sharing time. Children want to feel, 'You are important.'

• Protecting, supporting, and guiding
  Reaching out a hand when in danger, giving a push when in trouble, and setting an example when lost. Not with intimidation, but with love.

• Playing, listening, teaching, and correcting
  Laughing together, crying together, giving hints for them to think for themselves, sometimes gently, sometimes strictly. But always on a foundation of 'I believe in you.'

• Showing your way of being
  Not through words, but through actions. The stance of keeping promises, the stance of facing difficulties, the stance of engaging with sincerity—that is the greatest teaching of all.

When you feel that the role of a father is missing, that void remains in a child's heart as a lack of confidence or anxiety.

However, the accumulation of these small actions and awareness fosters a sense of security that allows them to think, 'I am okay.'

7. What is 'reparenting'?

Even as adults, the voices we heard from our parents when we were children sometimes remain in our hearts.

People who have been constantly criticized continue to speak to themselves in that same way.
When they fail at something or feel down, somewhere in their hearts, they tell themselves, 'That's why you're no good.'

But then, one day, you realize.

'If I keep going like this, I will keep hurting myself forever.'

That is when I encountered the concept of 'reparenting'.

Simply put, it is 'raising a new parent within yourself.'

The things you didn't receive as a child—

kindness, understanding, security, and healthy guidance—

you now give to yourself, as you are today.

For example, when you are feeling down, you say this to yourself:

'I see, things didn't go well. But it's okay. You're still in the middle of the journey. You can just try again. I'm watching over you, so let's do our best together.'

This is not just about coddling yourself.

There is kindness within the strictness. There is trust within the guidance.

It is about raising that kind of 'parent' within yourself.

And as that voice changes, your relationships with those around you will also change little by little.

Your family, your children, your friends.

They will truly begin to sense the warm changes within you.

8. To cultivate a gentle voice, 'self-discipline' was necessary

Through reparenting, I have become able to use a 'gentle voice' with myself.

But actually, that alone was not enough.

For me, that 'gentle voice' truly grew when—

I disciplined myself and properly faced what I needed to do.

For example, when I wanted to escape to the easy path, I held back.

When I was about to explode with anger, I took a deep breath and suppressed it.

Even on days when I thought, 'It's okay to rest today,' I continued to accumulate small actions.

Through those small daily choices, trust in myself gradually began to emerge.

I think the role of a father or a man is to stand in 'strength' and 'truth'.

But that is notthe strength to dominate others, butthe strength to regulate oneself.

Where does the source of that strength lie?

This is what I think.

9. Taming the 'wildness' within a man from the inside

I believe every man has an unspoken 'wildness' within him.

Instinctual impulses, the urge to go wild, the urge to be swept away by desires.

When that turns outward—

Irritability, infidelity or addiction, violence, indifference, irresponsibility.

It can manifest in those forms.

But you know, this isn't something that can be fixed just because someone tells you to 'suppress it!'

You have to tame it within yourself.

That is why I believeself-disciplineis not just 'endurance,' but

'training to become able to properly handle your own power.'

For example...

• When you are about to be consumed by emotions, stop and think

• Trying to be sincere with your partner

• Properly keeping the promises you made to your children

• Value not only the promises you make to others, but also the promises you make to yourself

This kind of accumulation leads to the feeling that 'I am someone I can trust'.

And then one day, you suddenly realize.

The voice inside you has changed.

'You did a good job.'
'You held back well.'
'You kept your promise.'

A day when you didn't betray yourself when no one was watching.

On such days, a 'quiet confidence' in yourself gradually grows.

10. Quiet Strength: 'Masculinity' in Japan and the West

When thinking about this 'power to regulate oneself,' I believe cultural differences are actually quite significant.

For example, in Japan, there has long been a tradition that values quiet strength, such as in 'Bushido' or the 'teachings of Miyamoto Musashi'.

It is not about raising your voice or acting arrogant.

Rather, those who silently discipline themselves have been considered the strongest.

'True power lies in what is not shown on the surface.'

I think that sense has always been a part of Japanese 'masculinity'.

On the other hand, in the West, 'Stoicism' has recently been re-evaluated,

and there, too, controlling impulses and living with a core purpose is considered important.

In the end, I think the essence is the same in every culture.

'How you treat yourself' determines your character.

Rather than asserting something with a loud voice, it is about how you discipline yourself when no one is watching.

I believe that is true 'strength'.

11. Discipline was not a 'punishment,' but 'training to nurture oneself'

When you hear the word "self-discipline," you might get the impression that it means "be hard on yourself" or "just endure it."

But in reality, it's different.

Self-discipline is not a punishment. It is training.

If you want to possess real strength, you need training to handle it.

If you want to express kindness in its true sense, you need the power to control yourself.

And that is something that grows from the small choices you make every day.

For example:

• Taking a breath instead of lashing out when you get angry

• Returning to your core values instead of giving in to the temptation right in front of you

• Keeping your promises to your partner properly

• Doing at least one thing you decided to do, even when you think, "I don't feel like it today"

In this way, "stacking up the 'right choices' you can make right now, one by one."

That becomes the foundation for respecting yourself.

And someday, the voice inside your heart will start to whisper things like this:

"You endured well."
"You kept your promise."
"You were able to be someone you can trust."

Before being recognized by others, becoming able to recognize yourself.

I believe that is the beginning of true self-confidence.

12. When You Meet the True 'Father'

Finally, let me share something personal.

As a Christian, there is something I believe.

It is that—at the deepest source of this "inner voice," there is the existence of God as a "Father."

Even during times when I wasn't aware of it, God has always been by my side.

That is what I feel.

Unfortunately, in Japan, Christianity tends to have the image of "strict rules or religious obligations."

But the true message Jesus conveyed is not that.

At the center is the fact that "God is a Father full of love."

Not an existence that only judges from afar, but one who is near, kind, and watching over us.

God is the one who created everything in the world, and is the one who is still working to restore it to how it was meant to be.

And God loves this world, and—you—deeply.

When I pray quietly, when I let go of trying so hard, I feel like I can suddenly hear a voice like this:

"You are my child. I am proud of you. You are not broken. You are my precious child."

13. Finally: Your Voice Can Be Changed

If the voice inside you right now is constantly harsh or cold—

please know that it is not something that will last forever.
That voice can be changed.
You just need to start over in your relationship with yourself, little by little.

Sometimes by borrowing help, with healing, courage, and a little bit of God's strength.


You are not alone.
No matter what happened in the past, you have the

power to start over. And beyond that journey, you might hear a voice like this:


"You are loved.
It's okay now."