Raising Daughters In A Changing World

Over the past week, I’ve had countless conversations with people about my recent Huffington Post interview, a piece that focused on the father–son relationship, emotional literacy, and the importance of raising boys differently. It’s sparked a lot of discussion, some expected, some surprising, and some that’s stayed with me long after the conversation ended.

But the biggest thing it stirred in me was this:

If this is what we hope for our boys… what kind of world am I raising my daughters into?

Most of my work this month has been centred on men’s mental health. I’ve been booked out with talks, workshops, and seminars with groups of men who are genuinely trying to understand themselves better.

And that’s what’s hit me the hardest:

I am watching change happen in real time.

Not flashy, headline-grabbing change.

Not celebrities or influencers shouting the loudest.

But quiet, real, meaningful change, in rooms where men sit together and talk honestly. Where they admit fear, uncertainty, loneliness, emotional strain. Where they show the courage to say, “I’m not okay.”

A few years ago, I wouldn’t have been invited into some of these spaces.

Not because the need wasn’t there, but because the culture wasn’t ready.

Something is shifting. And it matters.

And yet… I look at my daughters

I’m not ashamed to say that part of me wants to keep them small forever. I want their world to stay as simple and safe as it feels to them right now. But we all know that’s not how life works. They will grow. They will step out into the world. They will face pressures, expectations, stereotypes, and challenges that I can’t shield them from.

So my duty, my most important role, is not just to protect them from the world, but to prepare them for it.

To raise them as:

• kind

• caring

• compassionate

• resilient

• confident enough to take up space

• soft enough to stay human

• strong enough to stay themselves

And part of preparing them means helping shape the world they’ll grow into.

Which brings me back to the men

Here’s the truth I see every day in my clinical work:

Emotionally healthy men create emotionally healthy environments.

For their partners.

For their colleagues.

And especially for their children.

If we raise boys who can feel and express their emotions, who don’t confuse vulnerability for weakness, who know how to connect instead of shut down…

Then we raise men who treat women, and everyone, with respect, care, and empathy.

That’s why I’m passionate about men’s mental health.

Not because men deserve special treatment.

But because men’s emotional wellbeing is a foundation upon which safer, kinder, more supportive communities are built.

I think about my daughters and the future partners, friends, or colleagues they may have one day. And I hope they meet men, and women, who were given the emotional education they deserved.

What this week has taught me

Talking matters.

Sharing matters.

Normalising human emotions matters.

Every conversation I’ve had since the interview has reinforced something I’ve believed for years:

People want to feel understood. They want connection. They want to feel human without being judged for it.

And when we give people permission to speak openly, something powerful happens, not just for them, but for the people in their lives.

It’s been a busy week, and November always is. But this week, more than most, has reminded me why I do this work and why it matters not only for the men I meet, but for the two little girls waiting for me at home.

For them, I want a world where:

• emotional intelligence is normal

• compassion is strength

• care is equal

• and people feel safe to be who they are

And I genuinely believe we’re moving towards it.

One honest conversation at a time.

One open room at a time.

One man at a time.

One day at a time.

If any of this resonates with you and you'd like to explore it further then I'd be glad to hear from you.

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