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I’ve never really cared about “stolen valor”, but I just had an instance of it that really shook me.

My father always fancied himself a rugged manly man. So much so that when I, his only son, came out less macho than he had hoped for, he tried to beat the manliness into me.

By 16 I got tired of being a constant disappointment and punching bag. I left home and never went back. At 18 I stopped speaking to my father completely.

Decades later, my estranged sister contacted me thru social media. Said my dad’s health was failing. Said he wanted to make peace.

So I went and visited.

I had no idea what I would say. I had no idea what he would say. But he asked questions about my life, and I answered.
Showed him pictures of my wife. His grandchildren.
He learned about my military service, carving out a life in Alaska, becoming a pilot, starting my own business.

And I saw something from him I was not prepared to see- pride. Pride in HIS son.

And I got angry. More than angry. FURIOUS.

I told him about all the men who had taken me under their wing. Sgt Whitehead. JR. Carl. Willis.
All the lessons they taught me. The man they shaped me into. Everything I owed to them.

The last thing I said to my father, and will ever say to my father- He doesn’t get to be proud. He doesn’t get to steal that valor of men who didn’t have to be my dad but stepped up anyways. He taught me nothing. My success owes nothing to him.

That pissed me off far more than some fat tard in a uniform.

End emo rant.