Fatherless at Thirteen: A Thirty-Year Quest for Belonging
How the father wound shows up in business
My father died in my arms when I was 13 years old, 30 years ago, on September 4th, a day I remember better than yesterday. He was 52 years old.
Mihai-Traian Dragomirescu was an exceptional father. And a brilliant mind. A mathematician with 2 awards from the Romanian Academy and multiple published books including two with Mircea Maliță, the mentor of Călin Georgescu, the New Age Romanian candidate for the presidency who made the majority of people see him as their savior. Note to self - create Wikipedia page for my father.
My father was doing dialysis 3 times per week. Ended up with kidney insufficiency after a drug mistreatment prescribed by Romanian doctors. When the German doctors saw what he was prescribed, they were in shock, my father was taking medication in a concentration suitable for a horse, not a human.
On September 4th, 1994, we were out together in the family car, fixing some exterior decorations after the car was painted. He started feeling sick, we went upstairs and he laid down. We ended up calling the ambulance and at the hospital, the same one he was taken to 3 times a week for getting his blood cleared out by artificial kidneys, he was kept for questioning before (even if they had his medical record and everything) taken to intensive care a bit too late. He lost consciousness in the wheelchair in the elevator on the way to intensive care. The nurses gave him a cardiac massage. I gave him a cardiac massage. He was gone, I screamed with all my lungs in the hospital hallway.
Coming back from the hospital alone with my mother I felt like I was entering a new world. A world where my father was just in my heart.
Over the past 30 years, I ended up in unhealthy relationship dynamics, always unconsciously searching for my father in friends, colleagues, managers, and business partners. Looking for someone stronger, wiser, richer who can finally take me under his wing and make life a little bit easier. Somebody that can take care of me when I am down.
With this context, I was reading How the Father Wound Shows Up in Business by Rudy de Waele - and identified some patterns that resonated with my past experience, listing them below.
I am writing in italics my thoughts on how it impacted me.
Workaholism
Overachieving leaders can foster a culture of chronic overwork in their organizations, emphasizing achievement, intense competitiveness, and extreme drives for material success. While this can yield impressive results in the short term, it often comes at the expense of employee well-being, team cohesion, and long-term sustainability.
My father’s relentless work ethic and extraordinary accomplishments left a mark on me. For much of my life, I believed I had to work tirelessly to prove my worth—to him, to myself, to the world. The problem was, it wasn’t sustainable.
Perfectionism
The pursuit of perfection—rooted in a leader’s unhealed father wound—can permeate an organization, creating an atmosphere where employees feel pressured to perform flawlessly. This constant striving can lead to burnout and stifle innovation, as mistakes are seen as unacceptable rather than learning opportunities.
Growing up under the shadow of my father’s brilliance, I unknowingly chased perfection in everything I did. Failure wasn’t an option, and that mindset became a prison. I missed out on opportunities to experiment, to play, to innovate. The fear of not being enough held me back, even though I always strived to excel. His legacy felt like a weight rather than an inspiration at times.
Fear of Abandonment
A leader’s deep-seated fear of abandonment can translate into micromanagement or over-dependence on specific employees. This dynamic fosters mistrust stifles team growth, and can prevent the organization from evolving organically.
The day my father died, I felt like the ground had been ripped out from beneath me. Since then, I’ve unconsciously searched for him in others—friends, mentors, colleagues—hoping someone could fill the void. This pattern led me into relationships and dynamics where I gave too much, tolerated too much, and waited too long for people to save me. Deep down, I just wanted to feel safe and guided again.
Addiction
When leaders turn to unhealthy coping mechanisms—whether it be overwork, substances, or rigid processes—the culture of the organisation can reflect this imbalance. Such behaviors often ripple through the team, impacting productivity and emotional well-being.
Though I’ve never really battled substance addiction, I’ve leaned heavily on work, achievement, and relationships to cope with my pain. These became my escape hatches, temporary distractions from the unresolved grief and emptiness I carried.
Complacency
A fear of judgment, often rooted in unresolved personal wounds, can result in risk-averse leadership and a stagnant organization. Complacency stifles innovation, keeping the company from adapting to new challenges or opportunities.
There were times I felt stuck, afraid to take risks, or dream too big. Carrying the weight of my father’s legacy made me second-guess whether I could ever match his brilliance. I settled for “good enough” because failure felt like a betrayal of everything he stood for. But staying still only deepened my frustration, as I knew I wasn’t living the life I was meant to.
Impulsive Sexual behavior
Inappropriate behavior at the leadership level can damage an organization’s reputation and create a hostile work environment. When leaders seek validation through impulsive actions, the effects can reverberate across the entire company culture.
While I’ve sought validation in fleeting ways at times, it was never about the act itself—it was about a deeper longing for connection and intimacy. These moments, though brief, reflected my struggle to feel grounded and whole. They were attempts to soothe wounds I didn’t fully understand at the time.
For 30 years, I’ve carried the memory of my father, in my heart. His brilliance, his love, and his loss have shaped my life in ways I’m only beginning to understand fully. The patterns I’ve lived—the workaholism, the search for safety, the fear of failure—all trace back to the little boy who lost his father that day and is still looking for a place to belong.
But today, I choose to honor him differently, not by chasing his shadow, but by building my own light. I can step forward as the man he’d be proud to call his son.
I asked
from , the author of the article linked above about his relationship with his father. This is his answer:My father was a good man and created security for his family, provided everyday healthy food from the garden and was a gentle and balanced man. He struggled with some emotions though and was very harsh on me and very absent with me. He abused me a couple of times violently when I wasn’t corresponding to the image he had of me or what he wanted to create of me. I took these wounds with me all my life, we were never able to talk about that. He was very good as a grandfather with my children and I could see him engaging with them a lot more than he did with me. He didn’t know any better at the time. He suffered 8 years of Parkinson disease before passing away. I could forgive him on his death bed of all the scenes I carried with me all my life. It was a liberating moment as he received my forgiveness and shook my hand so strong and solid like no-one else in my life. It was as he was giving his strength and compassion back to me.
Read the full article on unconditionalmen.com here: How the Father Wound Shows Up in Business.
Synchronistically, as always, this Instagram post popped up.
Foarte frumos scris. Ai și varianta in română? Drum bun spre vindecare, Mihai. Încredere !