Real Strength Through Vulnerability
Written by Jeremy Bland
As a single father with a 4-year-old son, and a 10-year-old daughter, life is different.
You often hear the stories of single mothers who do it all; work long hours, maintain a household, cook meals, and transport kids where they need to be.
All in one day. Super-Mom, right?
Now, how many stories do you hear from single fathers, who take on all the above? The answer I bet, is far fewer.
Here’s the thing: it’s not because there are significantly fewer of us. It’s because there is such a stigma around asking for help as a man, that stigma has carried over into silence, forgotten resources, and too often, self-pride that prevents fathers from reaching out. It’s an endless cycle.
Society paints a narrow picture of the “strong working man.” But that picture rarely includes a father dedicating himself to making bottles, cooking meals, attending school events, or comforting a child after a tough day. That image doesn’t leave space for vulnerability, or for simply admitting, “This is hard, and I need help.”
The silence has consequences. When men don’t feel safe to ask for help, the weight of responsibility builds. Stress goes unchecked, mental health declines, and too many fathers are left feeling invisible. And when fathers struggle in silence, it doesn’t just affect them, it impacts their children, too.
I noticed how quickly my kids could pick up on the way I handled stress. Even when I thought I was protecting them by pushing through quietly, they sometimes mirrored that silence by holding back their own feelings. Instead of speaking up about what hurts, or what’s overwhelming, they’d hold it in. And just like us as adults, that can create walls that make it harder to process emotions or to believe it’s okay to lean on others for support.
That’s when I recognized something had to change. Pretending everything was fine wasn’t helping me, and it wasn’t helping my kids. I had to accept that vulnerability was okay.
Anxiety was okay.
And giving myself permission to acknowledge those feelings was the first step toward breaking the cycle.
I began making lifestyle changes. I started with my self-care routine, carving out intentional time in the mornings to reflect, reset, and prepare for the day. That shift lowered my stress, eased my anxiety, and gave me the clarity I needed to show up better for my kids. Over time, it expanded into a larger commitment; making better choices with my time, being intentional about rest, and creating healthier habits throughout the day. Those changes improved my well-being and allowed me to be more present, patient, and consistent as a father.
The difference was clear. I felt lighter, more energized, and more focused throughout the day. I found myself communicating more openly, and in turn, my kids began doing the same. They started sharing their feelings instead of holding them in, and I could see the weight of their own stress begin to lift. Better communication also took away some of the pressure I felt about asking for help, making it easier to be honest about what I needed and when I needed it.
For fathers like me, the lesson is clear: real strength is shown through vulnerability, in the courage to ask for support, to lean on resources, and to recognize we can’t carry everything alone.
That’s part of why I started J.B. Mentoring Solutions LLC, not only to guide youth, but to create a space where families can be open, vulnerable, and supported. When we ask for help, we set an example that builds resilience in our children, strengthens families, and unites communities.
