At this stage of my career, I primarily work with young adults and adults navigating anxiety, depression, and self-esteem. But not that long ago, I was the young, cool therapist—the one parents wanted their ADHD or ODD sons to connect with.
I still love child development. I still enjoy working with kids and adolescents.
But nothing grounds you quite like having an 11-year-old daughter and a 13-year-old stepdaughter.
I am no longer the young, cool therapist. And almost certainly not the cool guy at home. (The eye rolls out number the laughs nowadays)
And honestly? That’s probably for the best.
When Being “Cool” Stops Being the Goal
Not that I’m trying to be cool to middle schoolers. Insert generic dad joke about not having rizz. (Listen, I’m cool enough to know not to even attempt it.)
What’s shifted isn’t my sense of humor—it’s my focus. Somewhere in the second decade of parenting, the question quietly changes. It’s no longer about telling them they’re awesome little achievers that can do anything they put their little minds to.
It becomes about showing them what it looks like to be proud of yourself in life.
Am I someone I’d want to become?
Am I leading by example?
The First Decade: Building Their Confidence and life.
During the first decade of parenting, I spent a lot of energy cultivating my daughter’s self-esteem. I encouraged her and celebrated her achievements. I made sure she knew she was capable and worthy.
Lately?
She gives significantly fewer shits about what I think.
She rolls her eyes and sarcastically asks “is this another life lesson?!” She complains when I encourage her to be proud of herself. I get it. It’s dorky now. It’s parent stuff.
The Second Decade: Modeling Living a confident enjoyable life.
What actually needs my attention now isn’t coaching her confidence—but modeling it.
That means being proud of myself.
Not “cool” (that ship sailed when I started making comments worthy of Progressive Insurance commercials).
But grounded. Intentional. Honest.
Sometimes I catch myself wondering:
Would my daughter want to live a life like mine?
Leading by Example Isn’t About Control—It’s About Consistency
I hope my daughter continues to be her own independent, creative self. (Though, good or bad, she has many of my idiosyncrasies.)
My role now feels less about directing her growth and more about living in a way that demonstrates self-respect.
One of the best things we can do for the people we love is take care of ourselves. We are not do it performatively, not perfectly, but consistently.
Good parenting isn’t just being present and attentive.
It’s being able to stand behind the life you’re living.
That includes being proud of your own:
- Daily habits
- Physical health and movement
- Mental health and emotional regulation
- Relationships
- Interests, hobbies, and passions
Kids notice what we do far more than what we say.
Modeling Matters More Than Motivating
Recently, our girls did wall sits for an absurd amount of time—because I was doing a wall-sit challenge at my gym.
No lecture required.
No motivational speech.
Just modeling.
My daughter has also been leaning into humor lately. (I like to think we’ve made her life just stressful enough to have good material, yet comfortable enough to feel secure being silly.)
She told me a story from school that stuck with me.
She wanted to leave school early. She Googled me, pulled up my website, and showed her friends my profile—where my session fees are listed.
She announced:
“Guys, I have to come up with at least a hundred dollars for my dad to come get me.”
I was proud—not because she was “flexing,” but because she was playful, confident, and comfortable sharing this tibdit with her classmates ( and now with me). She proceeded to ask her classmates if she looked like me. (She did not need confirmation—unfortunately- poor girl looks exactly like her dad.)
What that moment told me was this:
She wasn’t embarrassed by me.
She wasn’t hiding me.
She was proud.
Being Someone Your Kids Can Be Proud Of Starts With You
I know 11 is still young. The next decade will likely involve plenty of eye-rolling, boundary-testing, and days where I unequivocally take the L.
But I want to give myself the best chance possible—not by being perfect, but by being someone I respect.
Because when I’m proud of how I live,
when I show up for myself,
when I take care of my mental and physical health—
I’m not just teaching her confidence.
I’m showing her what it looks like.
And hopefully, one day, she’ll be damn proud of herself too.
