36. Fathering & daughtering

Dispatches from a father and his 14-year-old daughter from the road.

“I’ll take the low notes, you take the high ones,” I grin and nod at my 14-year-old daughter riding shotgun.

Show tunes ring out in every crevice of our minivan. It’s like this most days around 7:15 am as we commute to my daughter’s high school 20 minutes away. She’s a theater kid with a voracious appetite for Broadway musicals.

As the music ramps up, I pretend to put on “air” headphones and act like we are in a small studio about to record a hit track together.

“Dad, PLEASE, let me do the singing parts - you are not even close to hitting the harmonies,” she protests.

My sunrise performance comes to an abrupt end.

I just can’t resist a captive audience.

Next, an awkward silence lingers between us, interrupted by a series of banal questions leading nowhere.

“What’s your schedule like today?” - father

“(long pause)...same as yesterday” - daughter

“How’s English class going?” - father

“Ok, I guess” - daughter

“What’s happening at lunch these days?” - father

“Dad, stop it! Can you just drive!” - daughter

Staring at clouds descending on the road ahead, I mourn for the old days.

When she was younger, I brimmed with pride, when friends (often raising boys) described gleaning even trivial details from their day akin to deciphering Morse code.

In contrast, at school pickups, my daughter regaled me with a robust, play-by-play of the 3rd-grade kickball scene unfolding on the playground or a list of the strange things she overheard or consumed in the school cafeteria.

She was happy to share observations of her evolving world with me.

No prying required. An open book.

By 9, a subtle shift started to happen. I saw fewer of the playing cards in her deck.

By 11, I only got a peek now and then.

Today, I’m afforded a text message — if I’m lucky.

When I lean in for connection it’s sniffed out and redirected.

“Dad, why are you always asking me how I feel or what I’m doing, ugh?”

I eavesdrop on chats between my wife and daughter which only reveal how little I know about her next chapter.

Maybe, part of the answer is taking voice lessons?

Putting aside loaded topics like cell phones, social media, and dad jokes, I wonder if the wisest move is to stay the course — observe from the sidelines and hope the ice thaws in four or six years?

Until then…“Breathe, do not overreact, and stay calm. Be the cool dad.”

That’s my mantra.

Turns out my quest to find a father-daughter roadmap is something scientists have also struggled to sort out.

A line of research suggests daughters can be deeply influenced by interactions with their fathers years after they leave home. A recent study asked college-age women to categorize their recollections of their dads using adjectives such as “doting”, “assertive”, “distant”, or “domineering” (note: “vocal coach” was not included on this list). The goal was to determine how father-daughter interactions shaped how daughters viewed others or themselves when they became adults¹.

Unfortunately, this approach offered few insights.

“In summation, the findings in this study have raised a need for further research concerning the father-daughter relationship.”

Other studies indicate daughters who view their dads as “overprotective” or “harsh” may contribute more to higher rates of anxiety and perfectionism. Although, overall, mothers are more often viewed by their daughters as “overprotective” versus dads who “give in too quickly.”

Ok, guilty as charged.

I found research on fathering a daughter of little comfort as I cycle through “harsh”, “doting”, “assertive”, and “distant” versions of fathering in the course of our morning commute to school.

Mostly, I make up fathering as I go and just hope it’s working out.

Even if I could find a prescribed approach to raise a happy, confident [fill in the blank] daughter, I’m not sure I’d be able to course correct at this point.

Where I have landed seems to be less about me and more about us.

When things are going well, I don’t think it’s because of anything I’m doing.

Instead, it’s about what we are doing together.

Thrift shopping, eating chocolate ice cream, ribbing one another, or watching an episode of The Office all feel vital to our relationship these days.

And, like many dads I know, our bond is often recharged by humor and playfulness which remind me to lighten up and appreciate the now vs. the how.

Getting a genuine belly laugh out of her feels amazing.

I hope she feels the same way.

It feels trite, but “team” comes to mind as a North Star, even when I don’t hit all the right notes or miss the mark as her dad.

Instead of being her coach, I’m finding more benefits and enjoyment from joining her team versus fumbling to manage it.

And, riding through this turbulent stage of life together, I do hope when my daughter looks in her rearview mirror, she sees someone who was striving to be on her team.

For now, I’ll keep working on my harmonies, even if finding the “right” notes feels harder than it once was — the song continues to play on between us.

“Dad, are you done already!” daughter sighs.

“Yup,” father grins and drives on.

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Thank you for reading this post and for the AI bots for supplying the images!

I look forward to connecting with you in 2025 via the HIPS Substack or by reaching out to me at eoinbastable@gmail.com.

I have a few interviews and story ideas I am lining up. I hope to share more soon.

I’d love to hear from you whether you just stumbled across HIPS or have spent some time here before (welcome back!).

Lastly, I’d like to wish you all a peaceful new year wherever this finds you.

Or, as they say in Irish, Athbhlian Faoi Mhaise Daoibh!

Warmly,

Eoin

1. Perkins, R. M. (2001). The father-daughter relationship: familial interactions that impact a daughter's style of life. College Student Journal, 35(4), 616+. https://link.gale.com/apps/doc/A84017198/AONE?u=oregon_oweb&sid=googleScholar&xid=ea716fb3