What dad really needs for Father's Day? Other dads. | Opinion
Men are taught to suppress our feelings and be individualist islands, a rugged mystique that is at odds with both healthy parenthood and basic human emotion.
Becoming a parent is the most transformational shift I’ve ever experienced.
The change was intentional – I wanted to be as present as possible, to soak up every moment with my daughter and to allow fatherhood to remake me. My priorities realigned around her, and the aperture of my focus narrowed to family. Free time evaporated as we tracked sleep and diapers, trying to settle into a new routine. My book reading and news consumption plummeted. Travel ground to a halt. And for the most part, I welcomed it.
But besides a lack of sleep, the part of parenthood I struggled with the most was social isolation, primarily driven by what felt like a jarring lack of non-parenting time as my wife and I learned the contours of our new life.
Making friends felt impossible, let alone the strain on maintaining existing ones. The inward turn became a self-reinforcing cocoon.
Dads are finally doing more parenting, but with less social support

My experience is not universal, but it also is not unique. Most millennial dads are spending dramatically more time parenting than previous generations of men (though we still lag behind moms on carrying the mental load of parenthood).
Much has been written about lonely men, and research shows men are less likely to reach out to a friend for emotional support.
That stat doesn’t surprise me. We’re taught to suppress our feelings and be individualist islands, a rugged mystique that is at odds with both healthy parenthood and basic human emotion.
And so I worked to preserve what free time I could, trying to maintain pieces of my former social life. Mostly, I failed, but as my daughter approached her third birthday, it grew easier.
That’s when my son arrived.
The second time around, caring for a newborn felt infinitely easier. Confident in my parenting abilities, many of those early moments were muscle memory. But parenting two kids ruptured the idea that I could keep chasing my old life, even in fits and starts. I needed something fundamentally different.
Before my son reached 3 months old, I’d started a meetup group for dads. It turned out to be exactly what I needed.
If you don't have a dad group, build one. We need each other.

The idea was simple – a night out with other local dads. Leave the kids at home.
I invited some dads I knew, then put the call out more widely on my Instagram story. About a dozen people showed up, most of them men I’d never met. At the end of the night, guys turned to me and asked when the next event was. I hadn’t thought that far.
Since then, we’ve settled into a rhythm of monthly meetups. It’s very informal – no website or social media account, no venue rentals or budget – and yet a rotating cast of about 50 dads have shown up for at least one event, with newcomers always in the mix. The hunger for something like this is overwhelming; a text I received this morning from a first-time attendee sums it up: “Dawg that was the best time I’ve had out by myself in a while.”
Paradoxically, being a parent introduces me to more people than I’d otherwise meet – at day care drop-off, gymnastics classes and on neighborhood walks – but with kids around, more meaningful connection is limited. Instead, having space to connect with other dads on our own feels like a cheat code, with our shared experiences as parents – navigating some of the same challenges and unparalleled joys – serving as a foundation of understanding.
Less than a year in, the dad group is already spurring deeper community. It’s led to playdates, lunches and birthday party invites, but also an exchange of hand-me-downs for kids and books for dads. We more seamlessly integrate into each other’s lives because we’re in a shared phase of life with (mostly young) kids at home. There’s less friction to build and maintain relationships than I’ve often experienced with childless friends.
I’m not the first one to realize that fatherhood can be lonely at times, or who's worked to address this. I was partially inspired by my local Raleigh Stroll Club, which is building a similar space for dads, and have since learned about the far more advanced Dad Guild that is thriving in Vermont.
If there isn’t something similar where you live, build it. I promise that other dads in your area are longing for it, and setting something up will be easier than you think. The payoff for me has been a much fuller, richer and more balanced experience of parenthood.
Eric Ginsburg is a writer and dad living in Raleigh, North Carolina.