How Dads Stay When They Can’t Be There

Fellas,

Let’s talk about a phrase that stings: "deadbeat dad."

We’ve all heard it. Maybe been called it. Maybe it was said behind your back. It’s a label that’s been stuck on countless fathers like a badge of infamy.

You “abandoned your family” because you can no longer keep up a relationship with someone.

And while yes, there are some men who walk away from their responsibilities, there's another truth that rarely gets airtime; many dads are out here fighting with everything they’ve got to stay involved in their children’s lives.

And still, it’s not enough.

The courts don’t always see your effort. Society doesn’t either. And sometimes even harder to admit your own children don’t.

But let’s be clear, If your son seems to prefer his mother, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t need you. It just means you’ve got to work harder, more intentionally, and with a deeper understanding of what he’s going through.

Let’s break this down.

The "Deadbeat Dad" Myth vs. Reality

According to a 2021 U.S. Census Bureau report, only about 17% of custodial parents are fathers. That means in the vast majority of custody cases, children live primarily with their mothers.

But here’s the catch noncustodial doesn’t mean uninvolved. In fact, research from the CDC shows that nearly 75% of nonresidential fathers report seeing their children at least once a month.

Many of those fathers are also paying child support, co-parenting, and working hard to build a relationship with their kids despite legal restrictions, logistical obstacles, and emotional resistance.

So where does the stereotype come from?

A few bad examples, repeated over time, make headlines. A missed payment, a no-show birthday, or a parent who truly walks away; these stories stick.

Meanwhile, the stories of everyday dads staying in the game, even when the odds are against them, rarely make the cut.

Let me tell you about Marcus

Marcus’s Story: Showing Up Anyway

Marcus wasn’t perfect he’d be the first to admit that. The divorce wasn’t clean, and the custody agreement felt more like a punishment than a plan.

His ex was awarded full custody of their 10-year-old son, and Marcus was given alternate weekends. He lived two hours away in a one-bedroom apartment he could barely afford, and he worked full-time in construction.

Rain or shine, sick or not, he showed up to that job every day because the math didn’t math otherwise. Rent. Child support. Gas money. Groceries. Repeat.

He showed up for more than work. There were days when Marcus would leave the job site, still in dusty boots and a sweaty shirt, and sit in traffic for hours just to have dinner with his son for two.

Sometimes they didn’t even get to eat sometimes his ex canceled last minute or didn’t answer the door at all. But Marcus came back anyway.

That kind of disappointment builds a specific kind of ache. A deep one. The kind that tells you maybe you’re not wanted. That maybe the fight isn’t worth it. That maybe your absence would hurt less than your unreciprocated presence.

Then came the day that nearly broke him.

He had requested time off work so he could be at his son’s football game. Plans changed; his boss “asked” him to cover the shift last minute, and Marcus couldn’t make it. The next time he saw his son, the boy was cold, quiet. Then suddenly, like a match struck in a dry room, he said:

"You don’t care about me like Mom does"

The words came out sharp. And they cut deep.

Marcus didn’t say anything back. He stood there in silence because in that moment, there was nothing to say that wouldn’t sound like an excuse.

Inside, though, he was crushed.

He had been giving everything the miles, the missed hours, the emotional exertion of dealing with a hostile co-parent. None of it seemed to matter.

And yet... he didn’t give up.

He Found Creative Ways to Stay Present

Marcus knew he couldn’t change the custody schedule or teleport through traffic. But he could redefine what being “there” looked like.

He started by making a private YouTube channel just for his son. Every week, he’d upload a short video sometimes it was a silly story about something that happened at work, sometimes it was advice on handling school stress, and sometimes it was just him saying, “I’m proud of you.”

He made a Spotify playlist called “For My Favorite Teammate” filled with songs that reminded him of their road trips, old bedtime tunes, and stuff his son liked. He updated it every month and told him, “If you’re ever wondering how I feel about you, just hit play.”

Marcus even asked his son if they could pick a game to play online together, once a week.

He didn’t try to replace being physically present he just multiplied the ways he could still show love.

Consistency Is a Language of Love

At first, there wasn’t much of a reaction.

His son didn’t reply to the game invites. Didn’t text back right away. Didn’t even mention the videos or playlist.

But Marcus kept showing up anyway. Then one day, seemingly out of nowhere, his son called. “Hey Dad... what’s the story tonight?”

It was a crack in the wall. Not a collapse, not a Hollywood moment. Just a tiny shift. But that was enough.

After that, the calls became more regular. The visits less tense. His son started asking to come over more.

Started opening up about school, friends, the things he was unsure about. He’d even ask Marcus what he was up to; a subtle way of saying, “I care too.”

Marcus hadn’t changed his circumstances. He hadn’t won a custody battle. He hadn’t had some magical breakthrough conversation.

He had just kept showing up.

The "deadbeat dad" label gets thrown around like it's a default setting. But for every father who walks away, there are many like Marcus fighting, hoping, driving two hours for 20 minutes.

And that’s the part the world rarely sees.

Your Son Might Prefer His Mom That Doesn’t Mean He Doesn’t Need You

This one’s hard. There are times your son might seem closer to his mother. If she has primary custody she’s just there more often.

And if you’re feeling like the outsider in your own child’s life, I get it. That pain is real.

But don’t confuse proximity with preference.

Children often gravitate to the parent who feels safest at the moment. But safety shifts over time. The key is to be present enough that when your son reaches for you emotionally, physically, spiritually you’re there.

You don’t have to compete. You don’t have to win “Most Loved Parent.” What you need to be is available, consistent, and real.

Here’s the bottom line, fellas:

Your son may not understand everything now. He may not say thank you. He might even lash out at you.

But he’s watching. He’s absorbing. He’s learning what love looks like.

One day, he’ll remember who always showed up. Even when it was hard. Even when it was unfair. Even when it felt like no one noticed.

Keep showing up.

Because consistency wins.

Until next time,

Barkim

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