I am the son - Gbari, age 19

I am the son of a man who was known for his leadership and his toughness

Before I'd said my first word, I was the heir to an invisible throne, fit for only the strongest, the alpha of all alphas

How lucky was I, to be born into such a position, while most men would be gnashing their teeth at each other just to get a peek at the throne room?

Here I am, two decades later

My father's crown adorns my head now

He turns in his grave.

I am his son, and yet my friends are almost exclusively all female. I am his son, who dislikes making guy friends because of the bravado and posturing required to be acceptable. I am his son, the emotionally sensitive nervous wreck who avoids confrontation. I am his son, who let his best friend - a girl - put lip gloss on him as she sat next to him in a room full of people. I am his son, who felt more comfortable in those moments with her than he did with any guy he'd ever known. I am his son, who recognizes the struggles of his female friends to prove their own royalty; queens who have learned to stay strong and not shiver in the faces of those who question the potential and legitimacy of them and their reign.

How could someone of his caliber - a frat brother who everyone looked up to - produce me? 

My father's soul does not rest. It observes in agony as his son, the child of a king, of an emperor, dreams with a small smile of being some girl's little spoon one day.

This crown is a loose fit. The object itself seems to be aware of that. Its jewels are now dull and lifeless. Ruby is rust, sapphire is slate. The unbreakable diamonds are cracked. The so-called gold is chipping away to reveal mere plastic beneath it.

To my dad, and to my family, this is the burning of Rome. The empire is falling, and the emperor is powerless to stop it. In their eyes, Doomsday is upon us.

But there is a light, brighter than any jewel on this dead crown, shining in my eyes.

It's taken years of embarrassment and shame for me to get to this point, but here I am. The leader of a new empire, one in which I live as I am.

He is the father of a man who will be known for his self-confidence and compassion

After he passed away, he was the forefather to an invisible throne, fit for only the happiest, most inwardly comfortable of all.

How lucky was he, to sire such a person, while most men would be gnashing their teeth at each other just to get a peek at the throne room?