As I write this my daugh­ter is with friends in a limo on her way to an eighth grade prom. It’s her first date. I’m ecsta­tic for her and hope she has a great time. I think she’ll remem­ber this day for the rest of her life. I cer­tainly have enough pic­tures to make sure she can’t for­get it.

So, why do I feel frozen inside?

My wife is ner­vous about the whole thing but def­i­nitely very happy too. I can see it in her. She “gets it”. She’s been there and, obvi­ously, can relate with what my daugh­ter is feel­ing. By the way, my daugh­ter is cool and collected.

I, on the other hand, am awash with emo­tions that guys have a tough time with.  Scenes from Father of the Bride keep flash­ing at unex­pected times. Appetite’s gone. Yet, I am truly happy about the whole thing.

The boy’s a good kid that we’ve known since he was a baby. We’re friends with the par­ents. It’s at the school gym with chap­er­ones. Why am I feel­ing this way? I know I’m think­ing that and I’m SURE my wife is won­der­ing the same thing.

It’s under­stand­able that my wife feels this way, I sup­pose. She can relate with what my daugh­ter is going through but not really what I’m going through. Heck, I can barely artic­u­late what I’m going through. How­ever, I do think this is a com­mon occur­rence for dads. I think I’m feel­ing as I should and one of the rea­sons I’m writ­ing this is to help shed some light on a dad’s psy­che for all the spouses out there.

The Dad Psyche

It’s all about what we view our role to be. We are pro­tec­tors. It’s our job, our role (and you know how deeply we hold our role), to pro­tect the fam­ily unit. When we have daugh­ters, this instinct reaches heights that are dif­fi­cult for us to con­vey. We sim­ply aren’t built to feel such strong emo­tions. We kinda short cir­cuit and that’s what we act like idiots when it hap­pens. Our brains shut down!

Since the day my daugh­ter was born and she grabbed a hold of my pinky with her lit­tle tiny fin­gers, my soul made a promise to do every­thing to pro­tect her. The same holds true for my son. The dif­fer­ence lies in the fact that I can relate to my son’s child­hood. I lived it. This gives dads a sense of com­fort and allows us to be more relaxed with them. With our daugh­ters, how­ever, it’s totally dif­fer­ent. We didn’t live a female child­hood and it’s very dif­fi­cult for us to relate. This means we are much less will­ing to take risks with them, just in case. I need to pro­tect, remember?

When mile­stones such as a first date hap­pen with daugh­ters, a dad expe­ri­ences a feel­ing of hap­pi­ness just like you moms do. It’s a right of pas­sage that we all go through. Your daughter’s happy and so are you. This is good.

Let­ting Go

At the same time, moms, please under­stand what we dads do. In a very real way, we entrust the well­be­ing of our daugh­ters to some­one else. Our soul aches because we see that our role as pro­tec­tor is slowly, irreversibly, com­ing to an end. There will come a time when we will need to let go and watch her fly and live the life of a woman. A life we’ve not expe­ri­ence and can’t really relate to. It’s hard. It’s painful. BUT, we do it.

I gave the date my hand and said, “Hi, how are you doing?”. My hand was firm and res­olute. My eyes con­veyed strength. I fought back an urge to lay down the law with the young man. It’s a fan­tasy all dads have, ladies. You don’t have to understand.

So, Mom, be patient with us dads dur­ing these mile­stones. Accept that you are not feel­ing what we are feel­ing and we sim­ply can’t artic­u­late it. We’ll come around and it’s be OK. Our idi­otic behav­ior is rooted in a deep love for our daugh­ters and an ions old instinct to protect.

But enough about me and dads. This day is all about my daughter.

I’m so happy for your my dear­est daughter.

Love always,

Your Dad