Hey Reader,

I know I said I wouldn’t work while on holiday, but sending a letter to my modern-day pen pal isn’t work. And how could I miss the chance to write to you from Greece?

It’s a quiet afternoon here in Corfu. The sun finally came out after a few days of rain. Everyone seems lighter, like the weather changed something in us too.

We’re here with my parents, my in-laws, Aurélie, and our daughter. Two families, two languages. My parents speak only Romanian, hers French, English, German, and Italian (but it doesn't help them in this case). So most of the time, I’m the bridge between everyone.

Usually Aurélie is the one who leads, even though I don't always see it (and it feels a bit uncomfortable to accept). She plans, she organizes, she keeps things moving. But this time, she told me she wanted to be on holiday. She didn’t want to manage or plan anything. She just wanted to be guided, to rest, to let go.

So this afternoon, when my mother-in-law suggested visiting the old town, I didn’t think much. I packed snacks, filled the water bottles, checked directions, and got everyone in the car. The manager in me was in full swing.

About twenty minutes into the drive, Aurélie looked outside and said, softly, “It’s so beautiful today. I wish I could swim.”
She didn’t say it like a complaint. It was more like a small wish spoken to the air. But it landed in me.

In that moment, I realized I wasn’t leading. I was managing. I was making sure everyone had what they needed to climb the ladder, but I never checked if the ladder leaned against the right wall.

That’s something I recognize from my parents. They’ve always been easygoing, always fine with whatever. I inherited that too. It looks peaceful, but it often means someone else decides which wall we climb.

I saw how much of our family rhythm depends on who leads and who manages. When Aurélie decided to rest this week, she created space for me to step up. And when she relaxed, something shifted. Her softness came back. Her desires started to show.

That small moment, her wish to swim, opened something in me. I could see what happens when a woman feels held enough to let go, and when a man remembers he can lead not by control, but by direction.

Maybe you’ve felt that too.

One dad figuring it out, same as you.
​

P.S. These letters aren’t a broadcast, they’re a conversation. If something speaks to you, or even stirs you the wrong way, just hit reply. I read every message.

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