This article was originally featured in Brooding, a newsletter that delves into profound reflections on contemporary family life. Sign up here .
A.J. Daulerio, the mastermind behind The Small Bow, holds a special place in my heart as one of the newsletters I truly cherish. Launched in 2018, it explores themes of addiction, recovery, family narratives, significant recollections, unwavering emotions, and the essence of grace. The resonance I, a non-sober individual, feel with his work speaks volumes about the profound depth and quality of his content. In my view, The Small Bow serves as a guide to embracing accountability and self-awareness in adulthood, a realm that often remains uncharted in the broader landscape.
A.J.’s personal journey is well-documented. Prior to his role as the editor-in-chief of Gawker in 2012, he served as an editor at the sports platform Deadspin. This pivotal period in his life was marked by the release of a sex tape involving Hulk Hogan, leading to a $100 million lawsuit against Gawker, which ultimately led to the demise of the company and plunged Daulerio into a state of disarray.
While A.J. has extensively shared his experiences following the lawsuit, a compelling aspect of his past decade is the timing of his transition into fatherhood amid the tumultuous aftermath. Presently residing in Los Angeles with his wife, Julieanne, A.J. is now a proud father of three. In a candid conversation over Zoom, we delved into his journey as a sober parent and his aspirations for parenthood. Subscribe to The Small Bow here.
How did you feel when you were newly sober and discovered Julieanne’s pregnancy?
It felt strangely right, almost divinely timed, despite the circumstances suggesting otherwise. While most would deem it an inopportune moment, I trusted our instincts, and it turned out to be a profoundly positive decision. Fast forward, and we now have three children. Back then, her friends expressed concerns, cautioning against starting a family with someone in early recovery.
Did the skepticism bother you?
Understandably, there were articles scrutinizing my past, strained relationships, and a general lack of esteem from those around me. My parents distanced themselves. It was a challenging phase. However, Julieanne saw a side of me that she believed in—a facet she hadn’t fully comprehended due to the novelty of our relationship. At the time of the pregnancy test, I was merely 90 days into sobriety, entangled in legal battles and devoid of stable employment prospects. Yet, in that moment, I felt prepared to embrace parenthood wholeheartedly, embodying responsibility and love.
The concept of readiness is often exaggerated and controlling. Do you resonate with that perspective?
Absolutely. While Julieanne never imposed ultimatums, I set personal benchmarks. I intensified my commitment to the 12-step program and therapy, grappling with underlying mood disorders that posed a more formidable challenge than alcoholism. She wasn’t fearful of a relapse but rather of a potential breakdown. When it eventually happened, with two kids in tow, she insisted on seeking psychiatric help—a transformative experience that I now value greatly.
Your sobriety seems integrated into your daily routines rather than a looming threat. Is that an accurate assessment?
Maintaining sobriety does instill a healthy fear of relapse, akin to anyone in recovery. Certain activities are consciously avoided. It’s not a specter but a seamless part of our lives. My wife comprehends this dynamic. It’s not a burden; it’s a shared understanding of the stakes involved, given her familiarity with my past self.
As a sober parent, do you struggle with asserting your individuality apart from your children?
Attending a recent kindergarten dads’ night, initially planned for ax throwing sans kids, evoked a mix of excitement and apprehension. While I anticipated the ax throwing activity as a diversion from the typical beer-fueled gatherings, its cancellation led me to forego the subsequent dinner and drinks. The prospect of navigating social scenarios where alcohol dominates poses a challenge. This sense of isolation and longing for a similar outlet is palpable. The allure of being a “fun drinker” still lingers, despite recognizing its pitfalls.
What narrative do you craft about your parenting identity?
I’m particularly sensitive about mirroring my father’s temperamental tendencies. I strive to steer clear of being a source of fear for my children. Amidst the chaos of raising three kids, each with their unique pace, I grapple with maintaining composure and avoiding becoming the perpetual “yeller.” Disciplinary matters are predominantly handled by their mother, casting me in the role of a lenient, indulgent figure. While unsure if this aligns with conventional parenting norms, I find solace in creating memorable experiences akin to a cherished childhood memory with my father.
The significance of being a steadfast presence for your children resonates deeply. How do you navigate societal expectations of parenting in this context?
The essence of simply being present for one’s children transcends elaborate efforts or societal norms. The lasting impact of parental presence—or absence—can shape a child’s worldview significantly. Despite the saturation of parenting discourse emphasizing heightened efforts, the core essence lies in fostering a safe and nurturing environment. This simplicity often gets overshadowed by the clamor for more, the pressure to excel in various parenting facets. Yet, the essence of being there remains paramount, albeit devoid of glamour or marketable narratives.
How do you perceive the prevalent parenting culture vis-a-vis your personal ethos?
While acknowledging the positive environment provided by my children’s school, I occasionally ponder if it shields them from the realities of the outside world. The cocoon of safety and love we strive to create at home contrasts with my own upbringing, marked by a lack of emotional security. This fundamental aspect, ensuring that our children feel loved and accepted unconditionally, takes precedence over conforming to external standards. The ability to offer a sanctuary where they can be their authentic selves holds profound significance.
In a world inundated with curated narratives of idealized parenthood on platforms like Instagram, the juxtaposition of real-life challenges and societal expectations often evokes self-doubt and comparison. Balancing the desire to provide enriching experiences with the need for genuine connection and emotional safety forms the crux of modern parenthood.