“Being a girl dad is like holding your daughter’s heart in your hand,” Ben Killoy explained. “You can protect it, but you can’t smash it. You have to guide it while you’re protecting it.”
That image captured everything Ben had learned since becoming the father of two daughters and two sons. It was not something he understood when his oldest child arrived in 2012.
Like many first-time fathers, he felt excited, overwhelmed and convinced he was more prepared than he really was.
But, the lessons that would shape him did not arrive in the delivery room. They came later through quiet conversations, everyday moments and the realization that daughters needed far more than a provider. They needed a father who was fully present.
“The girl dad part doesn’t really kick in until the dresses, the hair and all that girly energy comes at you,” he recalled.
Meaningful time together
One of the biggest surprises was discovering that meaningful time together rarely looked like the elaborate outings he imagined. For example, his oldest daughter loved going to Subway.
At first, he thought he should create memorable adventures filled with exciting activities. Instead, he learned to ask a simple question.
“What do you want to do with Dad?”
The answer often cost only a few dollars and required very little planning. What mattered was not the destination. It was the fact that his daughter felt heard and she knew her father trusted her opinion enough to let her choose.
His younger daughter preferred one-on-one outings like ice skating. Those experiences reminded Ben that every child receives love differently.
Parenting was never about creating one perfect formula. It was about paying attention to the unique heart standing in front of him.
His oldest daughter occasionally reminded him that some rules were stricter when she was younger.
“You never did that with me,” she would say.
Rather than becoming defensive, Ben accepted the criticism with humility.
“We were both learning at the time,” he explained.
Every birthday represented unexplored territory for Ben and his oldest daughter. He had never parented a 14-year-old before, nor had she been 14. So, instead of expecting perfection, he learned to give both of them a little grace.
Patience first
Looking back, patience was the quality Ben wished he had developed sooner. He recognized that many of his early frustrations had less to do with his children than with unfinished parts of his own life.
When emotions ran high, he sometimes reacted from old wounds instead of present circumstances.
“If you have to yell to solve a problem with your daughters, then you’re the problem,” Ben explained. “You should be able to accomplish what you need with a calm voice.”
That realization became one of the most important changes in his parenting journey. He also discovered that daughters often communicated without using words.
A request to play together after school was not always about playing. Sometimes it meant something difficult happened during the day.
“It was code for, ‘Dad, I had a rough day,'” he explained.
Those moments carried enormous weight. Children remembered whether their father was emotionally available long before the truly serious conversations arrived.
“If you weren’t there when she was 8, she’s unlikely to trust you when she’s 17,” Ben said.
Bedtime talk
That understanding shaped a nightly tradition he called bedtime talk. Every evening they reviewed the day together, discussing the good, bad and the ugly. Sometimes they read books or laughed about silly moments. Other nights included disappointments and tears.
The routine accomplished something much deeper than conversation. It quietly taught his children that they could always bring problems to Dad.
“We can get through anything together,” he regularly told them.
Years of repeating that message built trust one conversation at a time. Eventually, when bigger problems appeared, his daughters already knew where to go.
Listening doesn’t come naturally
Ben admitted that listening has not always come naturally. Like many fathers, his first instinct was to fix problems immediately. However, over time, he realized daughters often needed understanding before solutions.
So, instead of jumping into advice, Ben began asking himself a different question:
“What do they wish I knew that they’re not telling me?”
He also asked his daughters directly what they believed he was missing:
“What part of this situation do you think I don’t understand?”
Those questions slowed him down enough to discover that the surface issue was rarely the real problem.
“The top is only the beginning,” he explained. “The bottom is where the truth is.”
That curiosity strengthened their relationship far more than quick answers ever could.
Preparation through the ordinary
Many of Ben’s parenting lessons involved preparing his daughters for adulthood through ordinary experiences. For example, rather than ordering food for them at restaurants, he encouraged them to place their own orders.
When they were young, he would order Starbucks through the app but ask them to walk inside and pick it up themselves.
The assignment seemed insignificant, but, to Ben, it was leadership training.
Each small success built confidence and every interaction taught his daughters they could speak for themselves, ask questions and advocate for what they needed.
He approached money the same way. His children carried cash instead of debit cards.
“Keeping track of real money helped them understand responsibility in ways digital payments could not,” Ben explained.
Raising future adults, not children
Ben believed confidence was developed through repetition, not lectures. He wanted his children to see a father who continued pursuing purpose instead of settling for routine.
He also encouraged a growth mindset whenever they became discouraged. Whenever one of his children declared they could not do something, Ben simply added one word.
“Yet,” he explained. “You haven’t gotten good at it – yet.”
That tiny adjustment reminded them abilities could grow through practice.
Ben believed daughters also needed help protecting something less visible than confidence. They needed to understand their value, and it was a significant change he noticed when they were in third grade.
Before then, little girls lived in an innocent world filled with princesses and imagination. After that, they became aware that the world had opinions about their appearance, popularity and worth.
Since then, Ben has intentionally reminded his daughters they did not have to let culture define them.
“They get to choose how they define themselves,” he said. “If you have high value and high worth, you’re always going to let people go that don’t respect what you know is valuable.”
Standing for truth
Those conversations naturally extended into discussions about friendships, bullying and dating. When classmates bullied his children, Ben helped them recognize the behavior often reflected insecurity on the bully’s part, rather than truth.
He also encouraged them to defend classmates who were being mistreated.
“It is always easier as a friend to stand up against a bully than it is for the person being bullied,” he explained.
His oldest daughter had not yet shown much interest in dating, which is something Ben admitted brought him temporary relief. But, he knows that will change soon.
At the moment, she often comments that boys around her seemed immature. Instead of celebrating that observation for its own sake, Ben viewed it as evidence she already understood what respectful character looked like.
He hoped the example she saw at home would shape every future relationship.
Faith is essential
Faith also became an increasingly important part of his parenting. In fact, those conversations developed gradually as his own faith deepened.
For example, Ben did not begin by insisting everyone pray together as a family. Instead, he quietly prayed by himself before meals. Eventually, curiosity replaced resistance and his oldest daughter asked what he had been praying about.
Little by little, the family joined him. One evening, she even reminded him to not forget praying for an upcoming jazz concert because she wanted to hit a difficult note. That simple request became a meaningful milestone. It showed Ben that consistency often accomplished more than pressure.
What happens when Dad is gone?
One day, Ben asked his daughter what she thought would happen after he was gone someday. The conversation naturally turned toward finding strength through faith instead of depending solely on Dad.
“I’m preparing you to understand how to find your way through a world without me,” he told her.
Like many fathers, Ben knows he has made mistakes, but he wishes he had recognized the stakes earlier. He would have worried less about spotless bedrooms and more about building lasting relationships.
Teachers consistently told him his children were respectful, kind and thoughtful students. Ben eventually realized that mattered far more than occasional chaos inside the house.
“If school says they’re becoming good human beings, then why am I stressing so much about what’s going on at home?” he asked.
That perspective helped him loosen his grip on perfection while staying focused on what truly mattered.
Don’t control every outcome
For Ben, fatherhood has never been about controlling every outcome. Rather, it has been about preparing hearts.
He wants his daughters to know they can communicate honestly, stand confidently, dream boldly, protect their values and trust that their father will always be in their corner.
Most of all, he hopes they remember the consistency behind thousands of ordinary moments that quietly shaped extraordinary relationships.
Holding a daughter’s heart, he learned, is not about keeping her from every disappointment. It is about protecting it carefully, strengthening it patiently and preparing it to flourish long after she leaves home.
For more information
People can connect with Ben on the following platforms:
- Facebook = www.facebook.com/benjamin.killoy
- LinkedIn = www.linkedin.com/in/ben-killoy
Ben also coaches fathers and other men who want to strengthen their leadership at home, deepen family relationships and become more intentional husbands and dads.
I am the father of three now-grown young women with families of their own. A native of Wisconsin, I now live in Arizona, but enjoy visiting my eight grandchildren whenever I can.
