I took my daughter's date out to coffee

Guys,

I’ve entered the stage of life that many fathers dread. My 15-year-old daughter is dating.

“Dating.” What does that even mean, really?

This post isn’t about all the ins and outs of if or when kids should be allowed to date. To go there, you first have to define what dating even is. That's not what I want to cover today.

Here’s enough context to understand what’s happening. My daughter’s school has dances. Last weekend, she went to one with a guy. They’ve been talking quite a bit in the months leading up to it, so between that and the dance, I let her know we’d entered the territory of me wanting to meet and get to know him.

So I took him out for coffee.

I wasn’t exactly looking forward to it. But there were a few reasons I pushed myself to do it.

I want to know who is influencing my kids.

As a dad, I’m a protector. I want to know who is being given the power to build up or break down my kids. I’ll always be the primary influence in their lives, but peers matter. They either challenge or reinforce what’s happening at home.

I don’t usually choose to approve or veto my kids’ friends. But whether they admit it or not, my kids listen to and respect my perspective on the people they spend time with.

Even this kid’s willingness to let me buy him a cup of coffee told me something about his character.

I care, and I want my kids to know it.

Kids will protest. They’ll complain. They’ll tell you none of their friends’ parents do the things you do.

They may act annoyed, maybe even angry. But they still know you care. And in pivotal moments, when they’re tempted to make the wrong decision, they’ll think about you. One day, when they look back, they won’t remember every rule. They’ll remember that you showed up.

And I want others to know that I care too.

There are people in the world who will hurt your family if given the opportunity. I’d never met this kid before, so this wasn’t personal. My goal wasn’t to intimidate or interrogate him. I went out of my way to be nonconfrontational.

But presence matters.

My presence and directness communicated that I care deeply about my daughter. And I want that to be remembered in moments when someone might be tempted to make a decision that isn’t in her best interest.

​
​

In the end, it was the highlight of my weekend. And I believe him when he said he enjoyed it as well.

No one is perfect, especially teenage boys. But he showed up. He had a good handshake (an underrated skill) looked me in the eye, and carried himself well. He didn’t just answer my questions. He volunteered information. He even asked me a few questions.

He shared about his upbringing.
He talked about what's important to him now.
He mentioned some thoughts and plans he has for the years ahead.

What could have felt like an interview ended up feeling more like a conversation, maybe even a bit like mentorship between a young man and a guy a couple decades older.

We didn’t get into specific expectations. I told him Ellie knows our rules and that he needs to respect the boundaries she communicates. Above all else, I urged him to be honest and to walk with integrity. Those are core values in our family, and we talked about how they apply to relationships.

Boys need mentors. And young men will often listen to other men with a level of attention they won’t always give to their own fathers, my sons included.

I don’t know what the next few months or years will hold. I’m still wrestling with the right balance in all of this. We don’t want to overprotect, but we also don’t want to underdo it. Our kids will make questionable choices. They’ll learn lessons, some of them the hard way.

Parenting isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence. And it’s about relationship.

We’ll make mistakes. But when we consistently act out of care for others rather than fear or control, people notice. Our kids notice.

So keep initiating. Stay curious. Be involved in your kids’ lives. Hold high expectations while offering high support. Be there without swooping in to make every decision or shield them from every consequence.

It can feel overwhelming at times. But it’s also an adventure full of meaning and more joy than we sometimes expect.

–Andrew