Àwọn Àmì-ìwé Tí A Fẹ̀

You're at the dinner table. People you love are all around you. You're there... But you're not there... Your body is present. Your eyes are open. And the present version of you — the one they need — isn't there... You try to pull yourself back. To listen to the story your child is telling. But the line feels dead... In psychology, they sometimes call this the absent father. Not the one who left. The one who was always home — and never fully there. Your nervous system isn't broken. It's doing exa