The Double Standards of the World
Being a solo father means constantly running up against societal assumptions and invisible walls. When my son was six, I took him to swimming lessons and sat quietly scrolling on my phone. An employee walked over and told me, “We don’t allow cell phones in the pool area.” Fair enough—except every single mother around the pool was also glued to her phone, and none of them were asked to put theirs away.
The social isolation is real, too. I don’t get to join local parent groups because I’m not a mom, and being a single dad, while more common today, is still rare enough that I have virtually no one in real life to commiserate with about the daily trials. My friends either don’t have kids or have partners to share the load, meaning I miss out on a lot of adult hangouts. I love my kids endlessly and would rather play video games with my son or color with my daughter anyway, but carving out space for adult connection feels almost impossible.
When I go to parent-teacher interviews alongside my ex-wife, teachers speak directly to her the vast majority of the time—an unintentionally dismissive habit. I’ve even had women flat-out tell me that I don’t understand how hard it is to be a single mom. Meanwhile, most men’s public restrooms still lack baby changing tables entirely, and absolute strangers constantly assume I’m happily married until forced to realize otherwise.
Proving You Can Handle It
Sometimes, the micro-aggressions come from unexpected places. I once volunteered to help at a school Christmas party for my daughter’s fifth-grade class. The mom in charge gave me the “daunting” task of bringing a single, specific drink. She discussed this with me repeatedly over email, and even went so far as asking another family member if I—a single father who had held full physical custody of both my kids for six years—could possibly handle bringing in said beverage. I calmly assured her I could manage the monumental task and went on with my life.
And gifts? Let’s just talk about learning curves. Every time I came home from work early on, my young daughter would eagerly ask if I brought her anything. All my brain could process was getting her a wooden toy sword. It honestly never occurred to my sleep-deprived brain that she might want a doll or a dress.
Yet, despite the awkwardness, the double standards, and the exhaustion, we build our own rhythms. I didn’t want to do anything that might take time away from my boys, so after separating from my wife back in 1994, I decided not to bother trying to find a partner. Even though my boys are fully grown now, dating has changed so radically that I’m still single today—and at this point, I probably always will be.
Similarly, many men quietly carry the weight of broken pasts. A close friend of mine had his life upended when his best friend’s wife dropped their youngest child off for the first day of school and simply never came back. For ten years, the only contact they’ve had is strictly through solicitors; she refuses to speak to him or the kids directly. He says the absolute hardest part wasn’t raising his children alone, but having to explain to a judgmental world why he was raising them alone, enduring whispers from his own family wondering what terrible thing he must have done to “make her leave.”
The Quiet Reward
At the end of the day, solo fatherhood isn’t about perfection or trying to fit into a mold built for someone else. Whether it’s figuring out emergency feminine products on a packed flight, fumbling through hairbrushes, or standing our ground against a world that assumes fathers are merely babysitters, the job gets done.
I’m genuinely happier on my own now, even if people often assume I’m secretly depressed or torn up about it—especially given quirky twists like my ex marrying my previous best friend (for the record: I’m genuinely happy for them, I truly don’t care). We find our footing in the quiet moments: the shared laughter over burnt toast, the movie marathons, and the unspoken understanding between parent and child. Raising kids solo is an uphill climb, but looking back at the trail we’ve blazed, every single step has been worth it.
