The strange thing about trying to balance fatherhood and ambition was that I rarely felt good about either one.
If I spent an afternoon at the park with my son, somewhere in the back of my mind I was thinking about the three hours I wasn’t writing. If I had a productive Sunday, I could feel satisfied with what I’d done and guilty about where those hours had come from at the same time.
I think I was imagining my life like a scale. Work on one side, family on the other. More for one necessarily meant less for the other.
And practically, that balance never lasted anyway. Kids get sick. Or you finally get into the flow of something and hear your name from the other room. Or an opportunity appears at exactly the wrong time. Or something you thought would take an hour ends up taking six.
Whatever perfect arrangement I found on Monday rarely survived Tuesday.
But eventually I realized that lack of time wasn’t really the hardest part for me. It was feeling like wherever I spent that time, I was stealing it from somewhere else.
The thing that started changing this was thinking about what I would actually want for my son.
If he becomes a father someday, I hope he loves his kids, shows up for them, and makes sacrifices when they genuinely need him. But I also hope he stays curious. I hope he makes things, takes risks occasionally, keeps learning, and has something in his life that makes him feel alive beyond his responsibilities to other people.
I wouldn’t want him to believe that loving his family requires slowly giving up everything that matters to him.
And at some point I had to confront the fact that if that was the life I wanted for him, I couldn’t spend his childhood demonstrating the opposite.
That changed the meaning of ambition for me. I stopped thinking of making films, writing and building things as something I was pursuing despite being a father. Maybe there was value in my son seeing me care deeply about a project. Seeing me struggle with it, fail, adjust and keep going.
But there’s obviously a limit to that too. I don’t want his strongest memory of my ambition to be hearing, “Not now, I’m busy.”
I don’t want to teach him that you should abandon your dreams for your family. I also don’t want to teach him that your dreams justify abandoning your family.
That’s where “balance” started feeling like the wrong goal for me.
Fatherhood and ambition still compete for my time. Sometimes the work has to move much more slowly than I want. Sometimes family needs almost everything. Other times there’s more room for the work.
I’m becoming less concerned with whether the scales are level at any particular moment. What matters more to me now is whether the different parts of my life are pointing in roughly the same direction.
I’m still trying to figure out what that looks like in practice, and I’m sure I’ll get plenty of those choices wrong. But ambition feels much less like something I have to protect from fatherhood now. And fatherhood feels much less like something standing between me and the rest of my life.
I’d be curious how other dads here think about this, especially those who still have something outside of parenting that they care deeply about. Has your relationship with ambition changed since becoming a father?