Why I Don't Regret Having a Kid Young

An Portrait

The Child Elephant in the Room

I became a dad at 19. It wasn’t planned, and I wasn’t ready. When most of my friends were picking majors or learning how to live on their own for the first time, I was holding a newborn in my arms, wondering how I was going to afford diapers. I had no degree, no long-term plan, and no idea how much life was about to change.

To make things even harder, I was in an abusive relationship. At the time, I didn’t fully recognize it for what it was. Abuse can be quiet, manipulative, and hard to see when you’re in the middle of it. You tell yourself it’s normal. That it’s just stress. That you can fix it. It wasn’t until I left that I understood just how much of myself I had lost trying to keep the peace, trying to hold it all together.

The Beginning of a Life-Long Journey

Six months after my son was born, I started my first job in tech. Help Desk. Entry-level. Low pay. I worked nights and weekends, often getting home just in time to watch my son fall asleep. I didn’t know it then, but that job would change everything. It was my way out. Not just financially, but mentally and emotionally. Having a kid young gave me purpose, structure, and momentum. It gave me something to build.

I said yes to every opportunity that came my way. Even when I was terrified. Even when I didn’t think I was ready. I asked questions constantly. I learned by doing. I stayed late, showed up early, and slowly earned the trust of the people around me. My confidence grew. My skills sharpened. And eventually, the doors started to open.

Eight years later, I now manage software developers and network operations personnel across the country. I make more money than I ever thought possible when I was 19. I work with smart, driven people who respect me. I lead teams, make decisions that matter, and support my family in ways I once dreamed of.

But here’s the thing: none of that would’ve happened without my son. Becoming a dad didn’t slow me down. It gave me the urgency to move faster. It gave me focus. It forced me to figure out who I wanted to be and what kind of life I wanted to build. When you’re responsible for another human being, you don’t have the luxury of waiting for the perfect time.

What I've Learned Having a Kid Young

There were hard days. Days when the exhaustion was bone-deep. Days when I doubted everything. When money was tight and time was tighter. When I felt like I was failing at work and at home. When I wondered if I was doing any of it right. But those days didn’t define me. They shaped me.

I learned how to set boundaries. How to prioritize. How to communicate better, lead better, live better. I became more empathetic, more patient, more grounded. I understood what really mattered. And I learned that success isn’t about having everything figured out – it’s about showing up, again and again, even when it’s hard.

I also learned the power of walking away. Leaving that toxic relationship was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But it was necessary – for me, and for my son. I didn’t want him to grow up thinking that love looked like control or manipulation. I wanted him to see what healthy relationships looked like. What self-respect looked like. What strength looked like.

Paying Off

And now? Now I get to be present. I get to show up for school events and soccer games. I get to teach him about technology and empathy and drive. I get to talk to him about life in a way that’s real, honest, and rooted in experience. I get to be the dad I never had with a wife I love and cherish. And that’s worth more than any title or paycheck.

I don’t regret becoming a parent young. I don’t regret the struggle. I don’t regret the nights I spent worrying or the years I spent rebuilding. Because all of it led me here. To a life I’m proud of. To a career I earned. To a relationship with my kids that’s built on trust and time and love.

So if you’re reading this and you’re in the thick of it – young, tired, unsure, and trying to find your way – know this: it gets better. You get stronger. And the path you’re on, as hard as it might be, might just be the very thing that shapes you into who you’re meant to be.

The crisis wasn’t total. It was mild. But it was real. And it made me who I am.