Tag Archive for: Relationships

The first time you pack a home to start a new one, you realize you’re not just moving furniture, you’re moving a culture.

I found that out the year my husband and I wrapped and packed our new dishes next to his large trunk of travel souvenirs and my grandmother’s floral music box. On paper, that box held a smorgasbord of fragile things. In practice, it carried a thousand little “we always…” and “we never…” statements that would follow us wherever we went.

Starting a family has a way of bringing those scripts to the surface. Holidays arrive, and suddenly there are three ideas of when and where to celebrate, as well as four opinions about what type of food should be on the table. Bedtime comes with a debate: two stories and a song? A quick goodbye or a slow cuddle? We inherit so much: our values, stories, jokes, grudges, and the choreography of everyday life.

The trick isn’t to erase what came before; it’s to honor it while shaping a culture that fits the people we are becoming.

Research gives us permission to take that work seriously. Decades of studies point to something deceptively simple: families who build steady routines and meaningful rituals tend to function better. Kids are more secure, parents report lower stress, and couples feel more satisfied, not because life gets easier, but because those small, repeated touchpoints stitch everyone together. The Gottmans would say these rituals are part of how couples “create shared meaning,” the sturdy beams of the Sound Relationship House. It’s not just the big traditions; it’s the goofy goodbye at the door, the nightly five-minute check-in, the Sunday call to Nana. Tiny things, done on purpose, turn into the grammar of “us.”

Still, none of us starts with a blank page. The way we handle conflict, money, faith, chores, and affection often echoes our family of origin. Attachment researchers have shown that early relational “templates” have a way of hitching a ride into adulthood. That can be a gift. Maybe warmth around the dinner table comes naturally. It can also be a challenge. Maybe we flinch when voices rise because that never ended well in our childhood home.

Naming those patterns doesn’t dishonor our parents or grandparents; it gives us the agency to decide what we’ll carry forward and what we’ll set down.

Marriage researcher Scott Stanley has a phrase I love: “decide, don’t slide.” He uses it for big transitions, but it fits family culture, too. It’s easy to slide into what’s familiar: we host because we always have, we drive six hours because that’s what’s expected, we serve the dish no one eats because it’s “tradition.” Deciding looks different. It sounds like, “We’re grateful for that, and here’s how we’ll do it now.” Intentional choices beat inertia every time.

Of course, our families of origin don’t stop being our families just because we start a new one. Therapist Esther Perel talks often about boundaries, not as walls to keep people out, but as guardrails that keep relationships safe. In practice, that might mean you send the holiday schedule to both sets of parents at the same time so no one is surprised. It might mean you ask that certain couple of conversations remain just that—between the two of you. It might mean expanding the table some years and narrowing it others. Boundaries make room for generosity because they reduce resentment.

I saw all of this come to life on the holiday we tried to please absolutely everyone. We committed to two Christmas meals, the long drive between them, and the “quick stop” at a third house that turned into a three-hour detour. By dessert, we were smiling for photos and privately exhausted with each other. The next year, we did it differently. We sat at the kitchen table with coffee and made four little lists, not as a manifesto but as a conversation.

First, we asked what we wanted to keep exactly as it was. Then we looked at what to tweak so it fit our season: the marathon holiday drive became a huge no. We decided one year we’d host, one year we’d travel, and one year we’d keep it small and invite anyone who wants to join us. We chose one thing to start that felt like us: a quick “rose, bud, thorn” check-in at dinner where each person shares a highlight, a hope, and a hard thing. And finally, we retired one tradition that had quietly stopped serving our family. We didn’t bury it; we gave it a grateful goodbye.

None of that made our family perfect. But it did make us more deliberate. We tied our choices to values we wanted to grow: gratitude, hospitality, playfulness, faith. Our rituals weren’t just busywork; they were habits of the heart. We put the small things on the calendar, because meaningful traditions rarely survive on good intentions. And we gave ourselves permission to laugh when the beautiful plan met the very real toddlers.

If you’re wondering whether any of this matters beyond feeling cozy, the answer is yes. Scholars like Brad Wilcox and others have shown that, on average, children do better (academically, emotionally, and financially) when they grow up in stable, committed two-parent homes. There are wonderful exceptions, and every family constellation can be loving and strong.

But it’s fair to say that investing in the culture of your home is not just sentimental, it’s one of the most practical ways to give kids a secure base. Rituals and routines are how love puts on work clothes.

So maybe this is your season to sift the heirlooms. Keep what is unmistakably good. Sand and refinish what needs adapting. And be brave enough to build a few pieces of your own. It might be Friday night pizza on the floor, a monthly family service project, a standing date night, or a once-a-week FaceTime with the cousins. It might be the boundary that says, “We’ll join you Saturday morning, but we’ll sleep in our own beds Friday night.” It might simply be the quiet promise that your partner gets the benefit of the doubt, even when the day goes off the rails.

Years from now, your children may not remember what you served or whether the napkins matched. They’ll remember the feeling around the table. They’ll remember that in your home, people showed up, stories were told, forgiveness was normal, and love was practiced on purpose. That’s what it means to honor where you’re from while building what comes next.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at lauren@firstthings.org.

Pew Research Center’s newly released brief on divorce lands with a hopeful headline for families: compared with the 1980s, Americans are less likely to divorce than they used to be. That’s not wishful thinking or an over simplification, it shows up in a long arc of numbers. Researchers at Bowling Green State University track the “refined” divorce rate (divorces per 1,000 married women). That rate peaked in 1980 at 22.6 and has fallen substantially since down to 14.4. In other words, among people who do marry, marriages today are, on average, more stable than they were in the Reagan era.

Pew’s snapshot brings the story into the present tense: divorce still touches many lives, with over 1.8 million Americans divorcing in 2023. But the broader trend is that divorce is less common than decades ago. 

So what’s behind the decline? A few big trends seem to be at play.

The typical first-time bride is now around 28–29 years-old, and the typical groom is about 30–31, up dramatically from newlyweds being in their late teens/early twenties in the 1980s. Waiting a little longer tends to reduce divorce risk; people bring more maturity, more education, and a clearer sense of “fit.” Peer-reviewed studies find that marrying young is linked to higher odds of splitting. Translation: couples are slowing down, choosing more intentionally, and that’s paying off.

Second, the marriage pool has changed. Today’s marriages are more selective and more likely to involve partners with higher education, and education is tied to lower divorce risk. That compositional shift nudges the overall divorce rate down. (Think of it like this: if more of the people who marry have the traits associated with stability, the averages move.)

Now, a key caveat that actually strengthens the good news: the marriage rate itself is lower than it was in the late 20th century. Fewer marriages overall means fewer opportunities for divorce, which helps pull down “crude” divorce measures (per 1,000 people). But even when you focus only on those who are married—the refined rate mentioned above—divorce has still fallen since the 1980 peak. Both things can be true: we have fewer marriages, and the marriages that do happen are, on average, sturdier.

First, take heart. The cultural panic of “half of all marriages end in divorce” was always an oversimplification and it’s even less true today. Many couples are entering marriage later, with more shared expectations, and they’re staying together longer. That steadiness shows up in the data Pew just pulled together and in the federal stats underneath it.

Second, remember what actually protects kids and couples day to day: not a date on a license, but the temperature of the relationship. Reviews in top journals keep pointing to the same levers such as lower conflict, clearer routines, and intentional commitment. Those are choices any couple can practice, whether you married at 23 or 33.

Finally, keep the denominator in mind. Because fewer people are marrying at all, crude divorce rates will stay low even if behavior doesn’t change. That’s why the refined rate is so useful, because it tells us that among those who are tying the knot, marriages really are more durable than they were a generation ago.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at lauren@firstthings.org.

My son’s school had to go into lockdown mode while we were having an outdoor celebration breakfast for his class. Nothing was going on at the school, but only a couple of blocks down the road gunshots were fired between people who were raging with hate towards each other. Out of an abundance of caution, we made our way into the cafeteria and had a giant dance party instead. 

Of course the kids asked all the questions, “Why did we have to come inside?”, “Are we safe?”, “Will we ever be able to go back outside?”

But they had no idea what happened only a few streets away, and they definitely didn’t feel the hate that started the whole issue.

Psychologists say hate isn’t just “really strong dislike.” It’s a hot mix of anger, contempt, and disgust that can push us toward action. One brain-imaging study in 2008 even found a distinct pattern when people looked at someone they hated. Parts of their brain tied to strong emotion and action planning lit up, as if the mind were putting the body on standby.

But the slide into hate usually starts earlier. We sort the world into “us” and “them.” Then we tell simple stories about “them.” Psychologist Nick Haslam’s review of decades of studies shows how this can turn into dehumanization, which means to treat other people as less than fully human. This makes it easier to justify harsh words or worse. We don’t notice it at first; it feels normal, and that’s the trap. 

Politics turns that trap into a bear pit. A team led by Northwestern’s Eli Finkel, director of the university’s Relationship and Motivation lab, calls today’s political dynamic “political sectarianism,” othering, aversion, and moral contempt mixing into a poisonous cocktail. Their work notes that in the U.S., many of us feel more heat toward the other party than warmth for our own. That’s not just disagreement; that’s relationship acid.

So what actually helps? First, real contact. The human kind, not the comment-section kind. Back in 2006, a massive meta-analysis of 515 studies found that contact between groups reliably reduces prejudice, especially when people work together as equals and leaders support the effort. Translation: volunteering side-by-side beats arguing on Facebook.

Second, a bigger “we.” Social psychologists Samuel Gaertner and John Dovidio show that when we recategorize from “us vs. them” to “all of us,” bias drops. In normal life that sounds like, “We’re neighbors raising kids in the same city,” before we ever talk about policy. It’s simple and surprisingly powerful.

Third, shared goals. The classic 1954 “Robbers Cave” summer-camp study split boys into rival teams and—surprise—hostility erupted. What cooled it wasn’t a lecture; it was fixing problems together (like hauling a stuck truck) that neither team could solve alone. Families can borrow this: when a fight stalls, pick a goal bigger than the argument and push the truck together.

Fourth, better conversations. “Deep canvassing” is the term to describe 10-minute, nonjudgmental, story-sharing chats. In 2016, researchers David Broockman and Joshua Kalla found these conversations produced durable attitude change on a hot-button issue. The magic wasn’t debating harder; it was listening, reflecting, and trading personal stories.

And because our media diet shapes our mood, here’s a timely note: a 2024 University of Michigan analysis warned that rage-bait politics on social media can crank up our cynicism and hostility. If your feed makes you feel permanently itchy, that’s not a character flaw, it’s a design feature. Curate accordingly.

We name the shared goal first (“We both want kind, sturdy kids”), we assume decent motives (“You’re aiming for safety; I’m aiming for independence”), and we take a break when we start narrating the other person as the villain. It’s not perfect. But the research backs up these small habits: contact, common identity, shared goals, and decent motives interrupt the slide from conflict to contempt and from contempt to hate.

So here’s a simple play for this week. Invite one person you disagree with for coffee. Ask three sincere questions before you share your view. Tell a short story about why you care. Then look for one thing you can do together like coach a team, pick up trash on your block, help a neighbor.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at lauren@firstthings.org.

In fact, it’s how millions of people meet these days, especially busy single parents, college students, young professionals, and even those looking for love later in life. But the study, which surveyed over 6,600 people from 50 different countries, found that on average, couples who met online reported lower levels of intimacy, passion, commitment, and overall relationship satisfaction than couples who met offline. 

Another factor is what researchers call “homogamy.” It means people tend to have stronger, more satisfying relationships when they share common ground, such as similar values, cultural backgrounds, education levels, and life goals. Offline couples, it turns out, are more likely to have that natural overlap because they tend to meet in shared spaces, like church, school, mutual friends, the lunch line at work.

There’s also the challenge of community support. When you meet someone through friends or your social circle, you automatically get a little network of encouragement. Your people know their people. There’s history. And maybe some gentle accountability. But when you meet online, you don’t get that built-in backup system, at least not right away.

None of this means online dating is doomed. Plenty of strong, loving, deeply connected couples met on Bumble or Hinge or (gasp!) even Craigslist back in the day.

We have to move beyond swiping, past the highlight-reel conversations, and toward the real stuff: communication, vulnerability, shared purpose, and mutual respect.

As someone who leads a nonprofit focused on strengthening families, I think a lot about how relationships begin and how they grow. The spark is fun, sure. But it’s the slow burn of trust, laughter, shared grocery lists, and “I’ll get up with the baby this time” moments that keep couples going strong.

So if you met your partner online, wonderful. Keep watering that relationship. Build your community. Don’t be afraid to ask the hard questions. And if you’re still swiping, maybe balance that screen time with real-world connection. Let your friends set you up. Go to that birthday party. Say hello at the library. Sometimes love shows up when your phone is in your pocket.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at lauren@firstthings.org.

A few days ago, my six-year-old came home from a playdate with shoulders sagging and tears in his eyes. “Nobody wanted to play with me today,” he said. In that moment, I was catapulted back to my own grown-up version of the same sting, learning about a meeting I wasn’t invited to.

Brains of every age register that exclusion as actual pain; functional MRI studies show the anterior cingulate cortex lighting up during social rejection just as it does when we stub a toe.

We like to think adulthood vaccinates us against playground politics, yet a meta analysis of 120 Cyberball experiments (a virtual ball tossing game researchers use to simulate ostracism) finds that even brief exclusion tanks self-esteem and mood in participants well past puberty.

The long-running Harvard Study of Adult Development echoes the cost: people who nurture warm relationships live longer, are happier, and stay mentally sharper—decades of data distilled to one sentence, “Good relationships keep us healthier and happier, period.” 

So what helps? First, call the feeling by its name. Neuroscientists argue that labeling an emotion recruits the thinking parts of the brain and lowers its intensity; it’s like dimming a harsh light.

Next, treat yourself with the same gentleness you’d offer a friend; a 2025 systematic review shows self-compassion cushions the blow of social media comparisons and other modern snubs.

Then take a small risk: send the “Miss you! Coffee soon?” text. People with about five dependable friends report the highest well-being, while those averaging barely three lag behind, according to a recent Australian survey on friendship and mental health. Building (or rebuilding) those five can start with one invite.

When our kids feel iced out, the script shifts from fixing to listening. Researchers tracking online peer rejection found that children bounced back fastest when they felt supported by parents or teachers. So I sit on the kitchen floor, eye level with my son, and say, “That sounds rough. Tell me everything.” Only after he exhales do we practice what he might say tomorrow: “Can I have a turn after Jason?” or, if need be, “That hurts. Please stop.” 

Remember, modeling is powerful; when children see or hear their parents experience rejection or feeling left out, and they see a healthy, action-oriented response, they learn that resilience is an action verb.

It can be tempting to try and hide our own “negative” or “hurtful” feelings from our children. But being open with them about what’s going on in our world and how we’re dealing with certain issues can build our connection with them and boost their confidence. Of course, it’s important these conversations remain age-appropriate.

Sometimes exclusion crosses the line into bullying. If your child’s stomachaches multiply or their spark dims, loop in the teacher early and document patterns. Often, though, the remedy is simpler: genuine connection. Last night, while my toddler built block towers, my son and I drew a “friend web” on scrap paper: classmates, cousins, and neighbors. These circles and lines reminded him (and me) how many doors can swing open when one seems shut.

Feeling left out is universal, but it doesn’t have to be terminal. Name it, tend to it with kindness, and reach out, whether you’re six or thirty-five.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at lauren@firstthings.org.

Some say opposites attract. Others argue that similarity is the glue. So which is it?

Turns out, science is siding with the “birds of a feather” crowd. A massive meta-analysis of 313 studies found that both actual and perceived similarity increase attraction between people. Perceived similarity (thinking we’re alike) helps in early dating, but actual similarity (being alike) becomes more important as time goes on.

And it’s not just attraction.

Research consistently shows that couples who share values—like faith, family priorities, financial goals, or life purpose—experience more satisfaction and fewer conflicts.

That alignment creates a sense of shared direction, which is especially grounding during life’s bigger storms (like teething toddlers or unexpected job changes).

It’s not just values. Similarity in personality traits also plays a meaningful role. Couples who are on the same wavelength when it comes to traits like openness, agreeableness, and emotional stability tend to report greater relationship quality.

Let me break that down practically: If you’re someone who craves structure and calm, and your partner thrives in chaos and impulse, you might find yourselves out of sync when life gets stressful. On the other hand, if you both tend to process stress similarly—whether that’s with humor, reflection, or a shared bowl of mint chip ice cream—you’re more likely to feel supported, understood, and, frankly, less annoyed at each other when things go sideways.

Another factor in the “does similarity matter” equation is how well you read and respond to each other’s emotions. Empathic accuracy—that ability to understand what your partner is feeling and needing—has been linked to healthier day-to-day interactions, especially after disagreements.

This doesn’t mean you need to be carbon copies emotionally. But having a shared emotional rhythm, or at least mutual respect for each other’s rhythms, can help couples de-escalate conflict, reconnect faster, and reduce emotional exhaustion.

In the “Hall house” with two little kids and two big careers, this kind of harmony isn’t just helpful—it’s holy.

Now, being similar doesn’t mean you have to enjoy all the same hobbies or finish each other’s sentences (although that can be cute). Research on what psychologists call the Michelangelo phenomenon reveals that the best relationships help us become better versions of ourselves. That happens when your partner supports your dreams and growth, even if they’re different from theirs.

So, it’s not always about matching interests—it’s about matching investments. It’s about being co-architects of the life you want to build together.

But let’s be honest—differences can be exciting. They keep things interesting and offer opportunities to learn from each other. (I married someone who loves to dream and vision, while I can organize a closet like it’s going on the cover of a magazine.) Research shows that differences might fuel the initial spark, but similarity often sustains the fire.

In other words, being wildly different can make dating thrilling—but being meaningfully similar makes a long-term partnership more sustainable.

I wouldn’t be where I am today—leading a mission-driven organization and parenting two little ones with a decent amount of joy and humor—without a partner who shares my foundational values. We approach conflict in similar ways, believe in the same bigger purpose, and know how to support each other without trying to change who the other person is.

Sure, we’re different in a million tiny ways. (Let’s just say one of us considers “on time” to mean five minutes early and the other thinks it means still finding their shoes.) But when it comes to how we see the world, raise our kids, and handle life’s curveballs, we’re solid. And that’s what counts.

So, does it matter if you’re similar? Yes—especially when it comes to your values, emotional style, and willingness to grow together. Similarity won’t solve every problem, but it gives you a shared language and rhythm for tackling life’s hardest and happiest moments.

Because when the baby’s up at 2 a.m. and your six-year-old is asking deep philosophical questions like “Do bugs have birthdays?”, it’s good to be in sync with the person beside you in the trenches. Even if they think you load the dishwasher all wrong.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at lauren@firstthings.org.

Something interesting is happening around kitchen tables these days. Families are talking more openly about things that used to stay quietly tucked away—anxiety, boundaries, burnout, childhood wounds. Mental health culture has brought these topics out of the shadows and into everyday conversation.

That’s a good thing—mostly. But it’s also created a growing tension between generations.

Adult children are using new language to describe their experiences. They’re setting boundaries, processing trauma, and trying to parent differently. Meanwhile, many parents—especially those who raised kids in a time when emotions weren’t openly discussed—are struggling to keep up. Some feel blamed, misunderstood, or left out entirely.

This disconnect isn’t about bad intentions. It’s about different frameworks. And bridging the gap, while worth the effort, is far from easy.

Mental health awareness has grown significantly in recent decades, and therapy-informed language is now common among Millennials and Gen Z. Words like “emotional labor,” “gaslighting,” and “generational trauma” are part of regular conversation.

But research shows that this increased awareness sometimes leads to more—not less—conflict. A 2022 study published in the Journal of Social and Personal Relationships found that while emotionally open communication improves individual well-being, it can cause friction when others aren’t operating from the same emotional playbook.

Older generations, often raised to “push through” or “keep it to yourself,” may feel confused or criticized when adult children bring up past pain or ask for emotional boundaries. And younger generations, wanting to heal, may struggle to understand why their parents seem resistant or defensive.

Avoiding these conversations altogether can lead to even deeper problems. A study from Cornell University found that unresolved family conflict is one of the top regrets people carry later in life. Estrangement, which was once rare, is becoming more common—nearly 1 in 4 Americans say they’ve cut off a close family member at some point.

In most cases, families don’t want to drift apart. They just don’t know how to talk across the emotional and cultural divides.

Here’s the hopeful part: families who do the hard work of navigating these tensions often emerge stronger.

Healthy conflict, handled with mutual respect, can deepen understanding and build trust. Psychologist Dr. Joshua Coleman, an expert in family estrangement and family therapy, notes that reconciliation is most successful when both sides are willing to reflect on their part and adjust expectations.

Adult children don’t need their parents to be perfect. Parents don’t need their children to forget the past. But both sides benefit when they can say, “I want to understand you, even if I don’t fully agree with you.”

If you’re a parent struggling with this tension in your relationship with your adult child, try these tools:

  • Ask questions before offering advice. When your child shares how they’re feeling or something they’re experiencing, posture yourself to listen rather than sharing. “What do you need from me right now?” goes a long way.
  • Don’t take boundaries personally. They’re often about the adult child’s needs for understanding and growth—not a rejection of your love.
  • Be open to learning. Therapy-speak might sound foreign, but behind it is often a deep desire for connection.

If you’re an adult child struggling with this tension in your relationship with your parent, try these tools:

  • Share feelings without shaming. “I needed something different back then” is easier to hear than “You failed me.”
  • Evaluate your own desire for the conversation and set realistic expectations for the outcome. Are you wanting your parents to go back in time and spend more time with you? Hear your needs? Show up more? We don’t have time machines, and it may not be something they’re willing to acknowledge and apologize for at the moment. They may need time to process and gather a response.
  • Acknowledge growth. Even small efforts by your parents to understand should be seen and named. Don’t expect perfect healing. Aim for progress, not perfection.

Repairing emotional rifts across generations requires humility, patience, and a lot of practice.

But it matters. Because our family ties, when healthy, are one of the few places where we can be fully known and still loved.

We won’t always say it right. There will be missteps. But leaning in—gently, consistently, and without the need to win—creates space for something new to grow.

Maybe that’s the real gift of this mental health moment: not to blame or divide, but to build something stronger than what we were handed.

And maybe, that work begins with just one honest conversation at the table.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at lauren@firstthings.org.

It’s no secret Dads play a special role in the lives of their children. Whether they’re fully present, somewhat present or not present at all, the impact fathers and even father figures have on children’s lives is profound. Yet a report by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services notes, “Too many fathers become convinced that they are simply an extra set of hands to help around the house, rather than irreplaceable to their children.” 

Here are a few lesser-known ways fathers can influence their children’s development, mental health and overall outlook on life.

1. Fathers Shape Emotional Intelligence and Relationship Skills

Recent research from the Australian Institute of Family Studies reveals that men who experienced affection from their fathers during childhood were 48% less likely to commit or be engaged in intimate partner violence as adults. This underscores the importance of emotionally available and engaged father figures in teaching boys and girls about love, respect, and conflict resolution. 

2. Dad’s Involvement Boosts Academic and Behavioral Outcomes

Children with actively involved fathers are 43% more likely to earn A’s and 33% less likely to repeat a grade. Moreover, these children exhibit higher levels of sociability, confidence, and self-control, giving them an extra boost in positive behavioral patterns.

3. Unique Play Styles Foster Development

Fathers often engage in more physical and unpredictable play, which encourages risk-taking and problem-solving skills in children. An article released by The Fathering Project reveals that this type of interaction is crucial for developing resilience and adaptability. 

4. Fathers Influence Long-Term Mental and Relational Health

High-quality father involvement during childhood is linked to better mental health outcomes in adulthood, including lower rates of depression and anxiety throughout the child’s life. A study published in the Journal of Evolutionary Psychological Science also suggests the depth of connection developed between a child and father can greatly influence the child’s romantic relationships later in life. This held especially true for males.

5. Dads Teach Practical Life Skills

Beyond emotional support, fathers often impart essential life skills. A survey through the New York Post found children believe their dads are instrumental in teaching day-to-day necessities such as how to drive, fix things, and build overall confidence. 

6. The Absence of Fathers Has Tangible Effects

Further information revealed through The Fatherhood Project shows children growing up without a father figure are more likely to experience poverty, drop out of school, and engage in behaviors that put their physical health at risk, such as unprotected sex, binge drinking and drug abuse. This highlights the critical role fathers play in providing stability and guidance.

7. Fathers as Attachment Figures

While mothers are often primary attachment figures, fathers can also serve this role, providing a wider net of support and care for children. Secure attachments with fathers contribute to better social abilities and fewer behavioral problems in children.

Fathers and father figures bring a unique set of skills and attributes that are indispensable to a child’s development.

From shaping emotional intelligence to teaching practical life skills, their influence is profound and far-reaching. 

Happy Father’s Day to all the dads and father figures out there! You are irreplaceable.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at lauren@firstthings.org.