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My dad was a primary parent in the 90s—literally the only one of his kind back then. He was the most emotionally available, soft, and nurturing, beautiful dad.
He would play make-believe games with us for hours, sing The Little Mermaid at the top of his lungs. He was the opposite of what is being coined a "trad dad" online.
My dad, Trev, grew up in the fifties and had the epitome of a trad dad himself. His own father fought in both World Wars. He was so stoic to the point where he never told my dad, his son, that he loved him.
And I am sure he loved him, but he was so emotionally shut down that he couldn't even express it. As a result, my dad was incredibly close to his mum.
Watch: How do we raise boys to become good men? Post continues below.
She was soft, nurturing, caring, and adoring. And my dad became that kind of parent.
He didn't want to raise his daughters with a stiff upper lip. He yearned for the kind of closeness he felt from his mum.























