Dad Space: The Quiet Power of Believing in Someone Completely
There was a moment in my life—raw, confusing, and monumental—when I stood at a crossroads, unsure which way to turn. I was trying to decide whether to have another child, and I longed for someone to tell me what to do. I wanted clarity, certainty. I wanted my dad to just give me the answer.
Instead, he said something maddeningly simple:
“Whatever decision you make, Susan, will be the right one.”
I wanted to scream. I wanted him to choose for me. But instead, he gave me something so much greater than advice. He gave me space—Dad space.
My dad was the first person who held me as capable, even when I doubted myself. Not just in a surface way, not with empty affirmations. He believed in me with every cell of his body. He saw my strength when I couldn’t see it myself. And because he believed in me so fiercely, I learned to believe in myself.
That kind of love—the kind that trusts you deeply—isn’t passive. It’s incredibly active. It takes restraint. Compassion. A letting go of one’s own ego. My dad had plenty of strong opinions, but when it really mattered, when I needed to make a life-changing decision, he stepped aside and made room for me to discover my truth.
He didn’t rescue me. He didn’t direct me.
He trusted me. And because of that, I grew.
This space he held for me—silent, strong, and full of faith—allowed me to step fully into my own life. In that space, I could stretch. Dream. Fall and rise again. I could shout my questions to the sky and know that his answer would always be a resounding, unwavering Yes.
He was, long before I knew the term, my first life coach.
Long before “holding someone as naturally creative, resourceful, and whole” became the language of coaching, it was simply how he loved.
And though he’s been gone for over a decade, his voice still echoes in my heart every time I doubt myself. Every time I take a leap into the unknown. Every time I remember that the most powerful support isn’t found in giving answers—it’s found in creating space for someone to find their own.
On Father’s Day, I don’t just celebrate the man he was. I celebrate the legacy of his Yes.
And I try, in my own way, to offer that same gift to others.
Here are four ways we can all create Dad Space:
Believe they can do it. Even when they’re wobbling. Especially when they’re wobbling.
Trust they will find their answer. Not yours. Theirs.
Have faith that whatever they choose will be right for them. Even if it’s not the path you would’ve taken.
Love them, no matter what. Unconditionally, quietly, completely.
To the dads, the mentors, the coaches, the friends—and to anyone who holds space for others to become who they truly are—thank you.
You are the quiet power behind so many resounding Yeses.
Happy Father’s Day.