To the men who loved quietly
This Father’s Day, a reflection on the quiet men who helped shape my strength—through steady presence, support, and belief that never needed a spotlight
Every Father’s Day, my feed fills with heartfelt tributes. And while much of my work celebrates feminine strength, today I want to honour the men who helped shape mine.
My grandfather was a miner—a small man with rough hands and a gentle heart. He lived with us, and though I didn’t understand it then, his quiet presence became foundational. He loved me without condition. Our time together was simple: trips to the allotment, where I’d “help” him with the plants. I still remember the earthy smell, his calm voice, the feeling of safety.
He showed me that love doesn’t need to be loud to be lasting.
My father, though complicated, showed up in ways that counted. When I fell in love with gymnastics, he didn’t just drive me 25 miles a night, six days a week - he got out of the car and became a coach. That act of participation, of saying “I’m in this with you,” has stayed with me. He’s 82 now, and we still speak every day.
His support wasn’t perfect, but it was persistent.
And now, as I build Mettle & Grace, I’m walking a new path with my husband beside me. His belief in what I’m creating gives me strength. It’s a quiet kind of partnership - the kind that holds space, steadies the wobble, and says, “I’m proud of you. Go for it. I’ve got you.”
So this Father’s Day, I want to honour the men who didn’t need to be the centre. Who loved without noise. Who supported without the spotlight. And who showed up, again and again.
Thank you for helping me grow.