Surviving Narcissism Jesse Blayne writes about thriving after marriage to a narcissist.

I have learned how to throw a spiral.

I ski on the days when it’s too damn cold, though I’d rather be sitting by the fire reading a good book.

I routinely embarrass myself on the golf course.

I know the difference between an olie, a nosegrind and a kickflip.

I laugh at their burp competitions.

I let them spit sunflower seed shells at each other – until I can’t stand it any more.

I let her cut up her new Barbie outfits because she loves to “alter” things.

I remind her every day that she’s beautiful, and strong, and smart. 

I remind him that the strongest men are tender – that they don’t hide their feelings.

I watch hours of skateboarding DVDs, listen to volumes of data on the intricacies of different players’ golf swings, and help build snowboard jumps off our front step.

I let her know that what she has to say is just as important as what anyone else has to say.

I shoot hoops and play h.o.r.s.e, although sometimes I’ve been known to forget and call it h.o.u.s.e.

I carry her to bed some nights, even though she’s getting too heavy for me, because a strong daddy would carry his little girl to bed.

I try not to watch when he rides his bike ‘no hands’.

I put worms on hooks when I’d rather not.  I let him mow the lawn even though I worry that he’ll get hurt.  I try not to baby him in front of others, and I try to treat her like a princess without letting it go to her head.

Once in awhile, when no one is looking, I’ll let them take turns sitting in the passenger seat, and practice shifting gears

I try not to tell him to ‘knock it off’ when he drinks out of the milk carton, even though that drives me nuts.  I let them squirt the whipping cream straight into their mouths.

I am trying my best.

Today I will look in the mirror and say, “Happy Father’s Day,” to myself.

To all the fathering mothers and the fathering fathers, thank you for all the good work you do.