With all my heart, I love you.

As a mother, I can tell you the world has a lot of opinions on what it means to be a good one. 

Books, social content, support groups, videos – the list is endless. All you have to do is ask for help and a village of women will emerge to raise you up and help you, at every step of the way. 

But I’ve learned that this doesn’t really exist for fathers. 

I mean sure, they can search. Google will show them stuff. But is it fair to say they’re awarded the same kind of support mothers are? Probably not. Are expectations of them any less, especially now? Definitely not. Do they need help? Umm, yes, ALWAYS. 

But I’m not writing about the fact that they need to be congratulated for being dads. Or be commended for ‘doing a good job’.  But I will write about what I understand and what I know to be true. 

The two fathers I know who continue to fill my heart with pride. 

They’ve both had to battle their own demons. I’ve seen them sink into darkness and I’ve watched them pull themselves back into the light. Yes of course they had help, but they knew they needed it. They asked for it. They accepted it. There was never any shame in any of it and for that, I am proud. 

I have watched them succeed and shine. Work hard and achieve. Literally, climb mountains and overcome what everyone else might have thought to be impossible. 

They have hearts of lions and spirits of imps. Equal parts mischief and mystery. To them, respect matters. Loyalty does too. Friendship is important. Love even more so. 

The first sets the bar high, very high. The second meets the mark each and every time. 

Being a girl dad is a little harder, I think. It forces you to open up a space of mind that you didn’t know existed. To think what pride, shame, joy and pain feels like to your little girl and then find a way to talk to her about it. Show her how to overcome it. And help her navigate through what she needs to go through alone. You show her how much she can be loved by loving her mother that way. You stop yourself from catching her when she falls, but you help her stand up and try again. You teach her that she is just as good as any boy, no matter what the world tells her. 

You tell the world at your 25th wedding anniversary, that your daughter has not only been your daughter, she has been your son too. I was overwhelmed, I remember. He never needed to say it, but when he did, my heart soared. He politely told the world to screw themselves, daughters were just as good, if not better, than sons, thank you very much. All those years ago, that voice speaking that truth, mattered.  

Fast forward to today. A young dad watches silently as his eight-year-old is the only girl to play cricket with a bunch of boys after school. Her stance, bowling action, release – everything he’s taught her. He watches her defend herself fiercely and earn the respect she deserves. He looks at me with a different kind of excitement and pride on his face – “Did you see that?!” 

It is hard to explain what it’s like to love a father. But every year and every day, I try a little harder. 

With all my heart, I love you both. For always.