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Tue 23 Dec, 2025
Colmar, France
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After ten years in the military, I wanted freedom.
So for most of my twenties and the beginning of my thirties, I lived without much structure or direction. I explored, tested things, and moved often. I traveled to more than thirty countries. I volunteered teaching English in Colombia, worked on permaculture farms in Portugal, built stone walls in the Canary Islands, and guided cycling, snowmobile, and hiking trips around the world.
That life made sense then. It gave me space to move, to experiment, and to see what fit. It was a good life for that phase.
Two years ago, when I learned I was going to become a father, something shifted. Not in a dramatic way, but in a steady, unmistakable one. I had the clear sense that the life I was living was no longer suited for a family.
I wasn't doing anything wrong, but children need something different:
- presence
- stability
- someone willing to carry responsibility, even when it’s uncomfortable
I asked friends who already had young kids what they would recommend. I read books and listened to podcasts. But the thing that changed me most didn’t come from any of that.
I want to be there for my kids when they grow up. Not only providing, nor being around in theory, but actually present in their everyday lives.
That decision reshaped how I organize my work and my priorities. It’s also what led me to think more deeply about the kind of father I want to be.
Over time, I started noticing a difference between what I call a rooted dad and a remote dad.
The remote dad isn’t careless or selfish. He cares deeply. He helps. He’s attentive in many ways. That’s exactly why he’s hard to notice. From the outside, everything looks fine.
I often picture it like those old cartoons with two voices hovering nearby. One pulls you toward comfort and avoidance. The other toward responsibility and presence. Most days, we move back and forth between them without really noticing which one we’re listening to.
The remote voice is subtle. It sounds reasonable.
It says things like:
- don’t impose
- don’t rush a decision
- keep things flexible
It prefers consensus over direction and activity over clarity. It avoids conflict by staying useful and avoids choosing by keeping options open. Over time, that way of operating drains energy without ever fully resolving anything.
I saw this clearly last autumn while we were on holiday in Greece.
We were there with my partner, our daughter, my parents, and my in-laws. Two families, different languages, different rhythms, all wanting to rest. At the same time, there were constant decisions to make:
- where to eat
- which beach to go to
- how to plan around a toddler’s nap
- what to do when the weather changed
At first, I tried to reach consensus on everything. I kept checking in, asking questions, weighing preferences. It felt considerate, but it was also exhausting. Every decision opened the door to three more, and nothing really moved forward.
One rainy day, we decided to visit a small aquarium. Because of the weather, it was packed. We were told we’d have to wait an hour and a half to get in. My daughter was close to nap time.
None of the options felt good:
- waiting felt like wasting time
- going home felt like giving up the day
- staying outside in the rain didn’t make much sense
Consensus stopped working. The group stalled, and tension started to build.
That’s when I noticed what was happening in me. One part wanted to keep discussing, keep everyone aligned, and avoid choosing the wrong option. Another part recognized that someone needed to take responsibility for the uncertainty.
So I stopped discussing and bought the tickets.
It wasn’t a perfect call. My daughter didn’t nap, and the day wasn’t smooth. But the effect was immediate. The group relaxed, people settled, we moved forward. The weight that had been floating in the air dropped.
That moment clarified something for me.
Being rooted doesn’t mean always choosing correctly. It means being willing to choose when a choice is needed, even if the outcome isn’t guaranteed.
This is how I understand the difference now.
The remote dad:
- avoids decisions in the name of harmony
- leaks energy trying to please everyone
- stays busy to avoid difficult conversations
- waits for clarity instead of creating it
The rooted dad:
- accepts authority for the sake of the group
- decides even when outcomes are uncertain
- holds structure so others can relax
- stays present not only in joyful moments, but also in repetitive and boring ones
Being rooted, for me, is accepting that sometimes I’m the one who has to carry the weight, even when it’s uncomfortable.
As the year comes to a close, it’s worth looking back and noticing which voice you’ve been listening to more often, especially in moments of confusion or overwhelm.
- the one that prefers waiting and avoiding
- or the one that steps forward without guarantees
Both voices live in all of us. The work isn’t to get rid of one of them. It’s to notice which one is shaping your days.
If this brings something up for you, you’re welcome to reply. I read every message.
I wish you a rooted end of the year and real presence with your family.
One dad figuring it out, same as you.
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