Programmer or Poet: A Tale of Two Daddies

Most people are not fortunate enough to have a good father, while some are lucky to have one. In my case, I am doubly fortunate as I have two fathers. you might think that makes me doubly fortunate, and in some ways, you'd be right. But let me tell you about the flip side of the coin.

One of my fathers is my biological father. My parents separated when I was just one year old, and my mother subsequently entered into a relationship with another man, who became my stepfather. Despite this, I continued to meet my biological father on a weekly basis, and he played a vital role in shaping who I am today.

A father's job is to teach his son how to navigate life's labyrinth. And guess what? I had not one, but two extraordinary mentors for that daunting task. On one side, there was my introverted and methodical engineer father, while on the other, my impulsive and insightful psychologist stepfather. It was only natural for me to follow the paths of both of these influences. When I take an MBTI test, I consistently score right in the middle between introversion and extroversion, as well as between thinking and feeling.

Walking two paths at once isn't a walk in the park. It often leads to a tug-of-war within oneself. As a kid, I could sense this tension, though not fully aware of its complexities. I couldn't help but compare the two fathers, even though I knew deep down it was unfair. Who would win in a game of chess, my biological dad or my stepdad? It's silly, I know, but my child's mind insisted on picking a victor. Sure, my stepdad had been a pro player, but my heart was stubbornly rooted for my real dad.

Choosing a specialization in high school was a headache. Should I dive into the realms of math and physics? Or should I immerse myself in the enchanting worlds of literature and history? I went as far as writing a letter to the principal, pleading for an exception to study both math and literature.

And that's the strategy I stuck with as I grew older. Whenever life presented me with a choice that reflected my two fathers, I refused to pick just one. What should I study in college? Which field suits me best? I discovered the allure of a double major in math and philosophy. Toss a coin to decide? Nah, I said heads and tails both!

Fast forward a few decades, and I now make a living as a hands-on software engineering manager. On the side, I indulge in my passion for writing by creating and publishing poems and short stories. The same pattern continues to manifest.

With a family of my own now, including two children, my previous strategy no longer works due to the limited number of hours in a day and my own limitations. It seems like a classic case of seeking the right work-life balance, but it's more complex than that. I am faced with the recurring question and dilemma: am I a programmer or a poet?

I tried giving up one passion, just for a while. And it hurt. Sure, on the surface, giving up my IT career seemed painful because, let's face it, it's not easy to make a living solely as a writer. But the real pain came from sacrificing an integral part of who I am. So, I attempted to push writing aside and focus solely on work, but it felt like I was slowly suffocating my very soul.

That's when it hit me—I had been asking the wrong question all along. It's not about focus or priorities, and it's certainly not about juggling time. The real question is: What can I do that encapsulates everything I hold dear in both writing and programming? Is there an activity that merges these seemingly opposing forces into a harmonious whole?

I am aware that this is a nearly impossible question to answer. But it's the mission I've accepted in this lifetime: to seek that delicate balance, following two fathers simultaneously, and to find the creative endeavor that embodies both my passions.

If you're going through a similar struggle, come find me and share your experience. And if you've made progress towards finding a solution, I'm even more interested in hearing from you. Let's connect and talk about our journeys in search of that elusive harmony.