Dad guilt

Dad Guilt vs. Mom Guilt: My Battle With The ‘Provider’s Paradox’

Dad Guilt 101- The biological need to protect/provide (which requires working) and the emotional need to nurture (which requires presence).

We talk a lot about ‘Mom Guilt’ in our house. 

My wife worries if she’s spending enough time teaching our daughter, if the meals are organic enough, or if she’s balancing her own career well.

It’s very visible, structured, and there are a ton of nuances that make it credible and irrefutable whichever way you would like to look at it. In short, society, media, and ten gazillion social media pages on Instagram and Facebook have validated this. 

But, to be honest, ever since my daughter was born, I have been assessing myself pretty critically. After thirty-five years of my life, I have allowed myself to start feeling again, to tap into the abyss that was my emotion. 

This piece of content is not about gaining sympathy. It’s not about you pitying me for having this dad guilt. 

It is, however, intended to make grown-ass men face a realization, an awakening to make them better human beings, a stronger husband to their wives, and the best dad ever to their sons and daughters!

Dad Guilt Isn’t Usually About Doing It Wrong. It’s About Not Being There To Do It At All.

Dad Guilt isn't usually about doing it wrong. It’s about not being there to do it at all.

For a long time, I stayed silent during these conversations. Society tells us that dads don’t get guilt. Dads just get busy.

It’s the sinking feeling that you are becoming a wallet with a face. It’s the fear that your toddler loves you, but doesn’t need you. 

Here is my honest look at the difference between Mom Guilt and Dad Guilt, and how I’m learning to handle the feeling of never doing enough.

Work pressure aside, every human being, regardless of how few expectations they have from anyone, has a heart. They are sensitive, they have emotions, and they should be respected. 

A lot of my role as a dad was about choosing one door. Not two doors!

The First Door– Financial Safety, Security, Providing, and Future-Proofing. 

The Second Door– Omni Present, Physical Proximity, Hands-on Care, Milestone Tracker

If you are a dad and reading this, you will understand where I am coming from. 

Very early on, even before the child is born, the mother goes through a whole wave of biological and mental changes. She evolves into someone who is about to bear a child, take care, nurture, and grow. 

What a lot of us don’t realise is the fact that dads, as well, evolve. 

While I am not so convinced about what science tells us about men and the biological changes they experience during childbirth, what I can say for sure is that mentally and emotionally, we become different. 

This is the core reason guilt stems from. You are choosing door one, not knowing what the ceiling is. 

It’s more of a journey, every month, every quarter, every year. In other words, you don’t know what’s enough-

  1. Is the house big enough? Is her room equipped enough
  2. Should I buy a new house for my daughter
  3. How much money do I need to allocate for her education fee
  4. Doesn’t she need to move to a better brand of clothing
  5. Are the preschools good enough? What’s the fee I am looking at

There is no limit to the above five points and fifty other points that you can keep adding to the list.

So, in reality, you always feel you are behind. I am not doing enough; I need to hustle more, put in longer hours, so on and so forth. This is one part of the Dad Guilt.

The Core Difference: Perfection vs. Presence

Perfection vs. Presence

If I had to summarize the difference based on my late-night conversations with my wife:

  • Mom Guilt often asks: Am I doing this perfectly?
  • Dad Guilt often asks: Am I even here?

My wife feels guilty when she loses patience. I feel guilty when I close my office door.

1. The Provider’s Paradox

This is the hardest part for any career-driven father to reconcile.

As the COO and CDO, I carry the weight of revenue. If I don’t perform, the business suffers, and by extension, my family’s security suffers.

The Paradox: To be a good father (provider), I have to be absent. But to be a good dad (nurturer), I have to be present.

I hope you understand the subtle differences between being a father and being a dad.

When I am responding to a crisis at 8:00 PM, I am technically doing it for my family. But try explaining that to a crying toddler who just wants you to stack blocks. It will break your heart into a thousand pieces. 

When the tiny bundle of joy says, ‘Papa, come and see I have put clips on my doll’s hair’, and you can’t open the door since your US clients are not paying up, your heart will cry!

The Guilt: It feels like a transaction where I am trading memories for money. And I constantly worry I’m getting a bad deal.

2. The Assistant Parent Syndrome

There is a specific type of Dad Guilt that comes from feeling like an intern in your own operation.

Because I work 14 hours a day, my wife is the CEO of the house. She knows the routine. She knows exactly how to cut the banana so the toddler doesn’t melt down. She knows the dog’s vet schedule.

When I finally log off and try to step in, I often clumsily disrupt the flow.

  • I put the diaper on too loosely.
  • I gave the wrong snack.
  • My daughter pushes me away and screams, No! Mommy, do it!

The Guilt: That rejection stings. It makes you feel useless. It whispers, “You are just in the way. Go back to work; that’s all you’re good for.” Fighting that voice is the hardest battle of my day.

Your child will pick up on this sooner than you think. Personally, I can’t put my daughter to bed to fall asleep. She will play with me and do ten different things, but for food and sleep, she will call her mother. 

I have tried, but not enough. You cannot expect that one fine day, you will tell your daughter, come daddy’s going to put you to sleep and she will say, great. 

Real life is not like what you see in the movies. 

3. The Closed-Door Trauma

Since I am used to taking a lot of calls after work from my home because of the time zone differences with my clients, my daughter knows I am there at home, her space, which she, in her head, rationalizes as all of dad’s time at home belongs to her.

She can hear my voice on Zoom calls.

She scratches at the door. She brings her toys to the threshold. And I have to lock it.

Listening to my toddler cry for me on the other side of a door, while I discuss payment terms, client satisfaction about deliveries, and new pitches with a client, is a visceral form of torture. It makes you feel like a coward. It makes you feel like you are choosing the client over the child.

You know you are doing it for the right reasons- one new client onboarded, X amount can go towards her tuition fee. 

But, for some strange reason, at that specific moment, your heart wins over what your brain is telling you. 

How Am I Reconciling It? Management, Adjustment, And Acceptance

I haven’t cured Dad Guilt, but I am learning to manage it so it doesn’t turn into shame. 

If you wish to eliminate it completely from your life, trust me, you will end up compromising something very serious in the process as well. 

1. Reframing Providing As Love

I have to remind myself that my work is not a selfish pursuit of glory. It is an act of service. I am building a foundation for her life. It doesn’t fix the missed bath time, but it stops the self-loathing.

2. The Quality Myth (And Reality)

I used to try to jam 4 hours of parenting into 30 minutes. I’d come out of the office with manic energy, trying to be Disney Dad. It backfired.

Now, I focus on routine. I might miss dinner (at times), but I always do the evening dog walk. I always do the bath. Predictability matters more to a toddler than intensity.

3. Accepting The Intern Role

I had to swallow my ego. I accepted that my wife is the Lead Parent right now. Trust me, the faster you own up and accept this, the smoother your relationship with your wife and daughter.

Instead of feeling guilty that I don’t know the routine, I just asked for the SOP (Standard Operating Procedure). 

I asked her to teach me (which she won’t and says you didn’t take an interest when you had the time). 

By admitting I didn’t know, I stopped feeling like an outsider and started learning the ropes.

Accept the Dad Guilt: It Makes You A Better Dad!

Mom Guilt and Dad Guilt are two sides of the same coin. We both feel like we are failing.

But here is what I tell myself when the guilt hits at 11:00 PM: The fact that we feel guilty means we care. The bad dads? They don’t lose sleep over this.

If you are a dad reading this, worried that you aren’t doing enough, you are showing up. You are trying. And to that little kid (and that dog), you are the world.

Guys, I know a lot of you are reading the articles, and I am really grateful for that. The point of this website is to build a community of dads who want a voice, or a platform that tries to at least understand them. 

Can you please engage more by sharing this on your Facebook and dropping comments on relatable experiences and stories?

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Ejaz Ahmed

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Hi, I’m Ejaz. I’m a 37-year-old dad to a spirited 18-month-old daughter and a 7-year-old Labrador who still thinks he’s a puppy. I’ve been married for six years and currently live in a multigenerational home with my wife and mother. While my resume says "Chief Business Officer," my real full-time job involves negotiating with a toddler, mediating disputes between the baby and the dog, and trying to function on less sleep than I thought possible. I started The Parents Magazine to document the messy, beautiful, and exhausting reality of being an active dad in a house full of life.

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