To all the amazing dads out there, I sincerely hope you enjoy your Father’s Day. I understand that some families without fathers choose to honor mothers or other guardians on this day, recognizing their dual roles as both mom and dad. I completely support that notion; family comes in many wonderful shapes and forms, and love is what truly matters.
Yet, every year, I receive a handful of Father’s Day greetings, and I must be clear: I don’t want to be recognized on this day. I’m not a dad.
I don’t want to be labeled as both mom and dad, and it frustrates me when people make that assumption. Being referred to as a part-dad feels as out of place as being called “sir.” Sure, I might engage in traditional dad-like activities or wear clothing typically associated with men, but I am not a father.
I’m unapologetically open about my identity and my family. I’m a gay woman who loves a woman, and together we are raising three wonderful children. Our kids have two moms, and they do not have a father. While I appreciate the good intentions behind Father’s Day wishes, it doesn’t resonate with me. I’ve already celebrated my day in May, on Mother’s Day—or what we like to call Mothers’ Day in our house.
My eldest child has been in daycare since she was just six months old. We chose her school for its stellar reputation and diverse environment. When her classroom began crafting projects for Father’s Day, my partner and I were curious how the teachers would approach it. At one year old, our daughter didn’t quite grasp it, and the same was true at two. The teachers adeptly wrote “Mommy” instead of “Daddy” on her butterfly art made from her little feet.
By the time she was three, she became more aware of her surroundings. I admit, I was a bit anxious about how she would react to Father’s Day. The Mother’s Day breakfast in her classroom was a big hit, and I loved seeing all the mothers celebrate together. However, I worried about the upcoming Father’s Day festivities and how my daughter, Eva, would feel as the only child without a dad.
She may dance confidently down the grocery aisle, but would she feel secure being different amongst her peers, especially if they pointed out the obvious? Would she feel okay celebrating dads even without one of her own? Would she be proud of having two moms?
We asked Eva’s teachers to direct her Father’s Day project toward Pop-Pop, my partner’s father and Eva’s only grandfather. She’s always known she has two moms and understands that some friends have a mom and dad while others do not. She even gets my little attempts to introduce diverse family structures into her storybooks, often questioning why characters like Lizzie Bruin don’t have two moms.
When Eva plays with her toys, she often imagines a mom and dad for each. This concerns me, not because she wants a dad or loves her moms any less, but because she’s already bombarded with the idea that every family should consist of both a mom and a dad—even in fictional tales.
It’s troubling that while she knows her family is loved and accepted, she is also aware that she is different from her friends. The lack of representation of same-sex parents in books, movies, and TV shows is disheartening. I wish Eva could see more families like ours in her favorite stories.
Fortunately, my worries weigh more heavily on me than they do on her. She created a lovely Father’s Day gift for Pop-Pop without hesitation. When we decided not to attend the Father’s Day lunch, her friend voiced concern, asking who would be there for Eva. She seemed unfazed, but my partner suggested Eva give her friend’s dad a hug for Father’s Day, mirroring the hugs they had received on Mother’s Day. Most dads were unavailable that day, leaving the kids to enjoy pizza and take home their gifts. I can only wonder how Eva would have reacted in a setting that celebrated something she doesn’t possess.
One day, her friend—and hopefully many others—will realize that my partner and I will always be there for Eva. She doesn’t need a dad, nor do we require Father’s Day wishes. Such gestures undermine the hard work that LGBTQ+ parents have put into achieving equality with heterosexual parents. Labeling me as a dad, even with good intentions, implies the erroneous belief that both a mother and father are essential for raising a child. Families can thrive with just moms, just dads, or a beautiful blend of both.
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In summary, while Father’s Day is a time to celebrate dads, it’s essential to recognize that not all families fit the traditional mold. As a proud mom in a same-sex relationship, I want to honor our unique family structure without being categorized as a father.
Keyphrase: Not a Dad on Father’s Day
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