Happy Father’s Day to the Crappiest Guy I’ve Met This Year

Let’s get this out of the way up front:
This post is not about my dad.
My dad is amazing.

He’s the kind of dad who shows up when it matters.
Who walks with you when your heart is broken.
Who checks your oil and makes sure you have a full tank of gas.
Who always answers, always helps, always makes it feel like maybe the world isn’t entirely on fire.

He’s gentle, thoughtful, hilarious in the most dad-way possible, and the safest man I’ve ever known.

And the problem with having a dad that good?
You start believing most men are like that.
You give the benefit of the doubt. You assume safety where there is none. And sometimes, you walk into something thinking it’s soft, when really, it’s hiding sharp edges underneath.

So. Let’s talk about that.

Let’s talk about one of the nicest guys I ever met.
A man who smiled big, talked about how much he loved being a dad, and seemed like the kind of person who could make anyone feel safe. He showed up. He cooked. He cleaned. He had three kids, and he talked about them with warmth. He built this whole picture of what it meant to be a good, involved, loving father.

And I believed him.

But then the cracks started to show.

It was the way he never answered his ex’s calls when she had questions about the kids. The way he insisted he was the calm parent, while talking about how “dramatic” everyone else was. The way he described his teenage son—his older child who lived with his ex—not as a full, real person, but as someone who just didn’t follow the rules.

And then I heard more.

His daughter said, “Back when it was okay to hit kids…” and he waved it off.
He told me I was making things too big. That I was interpreting everything like a writer. That I needed to calm down.

But here’s the part that stuck with me:
That teenage son? He didn’t just go live with his mom—he was left there.

Because he wasn’t totally sure about his sexuality yet.
And because that, in this man’s eyes, was a problem.

And when I invited this man to Pride?
I got blocked. Everywhere.
Because nothing says “safe dad” like disappearing when someone tries to support your child for who they are.

The worst part?
This man truly believed he was doing it right. That because he cooked and helped with homework and said “I love you” sometimes, that meant he was a great dad.
But being a good father isn’t about showing off your involvement—it’s about showing up with your whole heart, even when it’s inconvenient. Especially then.

So today?

Today, I want to say Happy Father’s Day to the men who make it all about themselves.
To the dads who weaponize silence, control the story, and smile like they’re saints.

To the ones who use “provider” as an excuse not to grow.
To the ones who punish softness.
To the ones who turn their backs when their children stop performing perfection.

You don’t get a card from me today.
But you do get this:

We see you.
And one day, your kids will too.