Dad, You Just Don’t Get It

If I had a pound for every time one of my kids said, “You don’t get it, Dad,” I’d be living in a mansion somewhere warm, sipping fresh juice all day. The thing is, I don’t think it’s that “I don’t get it”—it’s that my kids see the world so differently from the one I grew up in. And sometimes, I’m left wondering if I’ve been living in some kind of time warp.

Generally, fathers don’t miss a thing, although I’m often accused of living in my own world. But I know who came in at 1:30 AM and ordered Uber Eats. I know who prefers to sit on TikTok when it’s time for more important matters. I also know when they’re facing dilemmas in their lives—whether they’re struggling with their career choices, relationships, or just dealing with the pressure of life. Even if they don’t always talk about it, I’m still watching, still aware, and still trying to understand their world.

Growing up in the 1980s, life felt simpler. We dealt with facts, solved problems, and moved on. Sure, emotions existed, but they weren’t the focus of everything. You didn’t overanalyse every feeling or dissect every situation. Things were practical. But today? Today, everything seems to be about how you feel, sometimes at the expense of reason. How many times do we hear, “Well, if it feels right, that’s what matters!” It’s no surprise that my children sometimes struggle with straightforward conversations about plans or solutions.

It’s been a hard adjustment for me, I won’t lie. I’ve spent a lot of time wondering where I went wrong or what I missed. But the more I think about it, the more I realise it’s not that I’m out of touch—it’s that the world has changed. Today’s society places feeling above facts, right or wrong, and it’s all at the expense of practical thinking. This shift has led to the emotional approach dominating even the most basic decisions, making it harder for my kids to navigate life’s realities like career decisions, relationships, and finances in a rational way.

But as I reflect more on this, I’ve come to realise that my children aren’t simply emotional; they are emotionally driven. And that’s something worth understanding. In a world that’s transactional, where success is often measured by how much we earn, how many likes we get, or how we appear to others, there’s less space for genuine connection. This environment can leave young people feeling disconnected—not just from each other, but from themselves, and even from Allah.

This disconnect can make everyday challenges seem overwhelming. Problems like choosing the right career, handling relationship pressures, managing finances, or even simply figuring out what to do next in life can cause emotional turbulence that seems unmanageable. But what I’ve realised is that a deeper connection to Allah offers them not just comfort, but a framework for resilience.

Imagine sipping a very hot cup of tea. If you rush to drink it, you burn your tongue. But if you let it cool down a bit first, it’s much more comfortable to enjoy. The same goes for approaching tough conversations with our children. If they’re in an emotional state or stressed, trying to talk sense into them is like drinking that scalding tea. It’s not going to go well. But if you wait until they’re in a calmer, more balanced state—just like waiting for the tea to cool—you’ll find it easier to connect, listen, and discuss things calmly. Timing is everything. Try practical steps, like taking them out for dinner or coffee; it works a treat!!!

Practically speaking, connecting with Allah isn’t some magic wand that erases life’s challenges, but it reshapes how they deal with them. For one, it helps them to develop inner resilience. When they understand that everything in their lives—good and bad—comes from Allah and is part of His divine wisdom, they learn to approach hardships with patience (sabr) and trust in His plan (tawakkul). This shift in mindset helps them see challenges not as insurmountable obstacles but as opportunities for growth and closeness to Allah. The emotional burden of life becomes easier to bear when we understand it within the context of faith.

But the real challenge isn’t just about understanding emotions—it’s about learning to navigate them in a world that feels increasingly disconnected. By connecting with Allah, our children can approach life’s uncertainties and challenges from a grounded, purposeful place. Rather than feeling overwhelmed by pressure from all directions—whether it’s about school, relationships, or career choices—they can find the inner peace and strength that comes from knowing that their worth is not defined by others’ expectations or fleeting success.

This connection to Allah offers them something deeper: the ability to see beyond the transactional nature of the world. In the face of adversity, they can find solace in knowing that Allah is with them, guiding them through the trials of life. Instead of feeling consumed by worry or anxiety, they can learn to trust that everything—good or bad—serves a purpose in their journey.

It’s not an easy path, but it’s one worth walking. We, as parents, are not here to dictate their every move or solve all their problems. But we can help guide them, offering them the tools to be emotionally resilient, spiritually grounded, and practically equipped for whatever comes their way.

It’s all about timing, patience, and reconnecting with the creator. In the end, bridging the emotional gap between generations is not about abandoning what we know but about learning how to meet them where they are. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll find that we can help them navigate this world with both heart and mind intact.