Entry #6 — Life Doesn’t Change, You Do

Diaries of a Father

In today’s culture, it’s common for both men and women to experience a subconscious dread when they consider stepping into parenthood. A fear that life will be taken from them. That everything will shrink.

Time — gone.

Spontaneity — gone.

Moments with friends — fewer, until they worry they’ll fade out of their lives altogether.

There’s an underlying fear that if you’re not present the way you once were, you’ll be forgotten. That you’ll miss out. That the world will keep moving while you stand still.

And then there’s the deeper question no one likes to admit:

What happens to me?

To the pursuits that made me feel alive.

To the passions that gave me identity.

To the selfish ambitions — the ones that weren’t wrong, but were just mine.

You spent years building a life that felt uniquely yours. Something that reflected who you were, what you valued, and where you thought it was headed. Now you’re stepping into a new role, with new weight, new responsibility, and no clear roadmap. So where does that leave you?

The fear isn’t really that life changes.

It’s that you might disappear inside it.

These subconscious thoughts alone have the power to stop people from wanting children at all, or to delay it indefinitely.

But the truth is, when the moment finally comes — when you hold your baby for the first time — those thoughts don’t follow you. 

They leave.

Gone.

As if they were never there at all.

Your perspective shifts.

In the months, weeks, and days leading up to my son’s birth, I shared those same thoughts. I struggled to connect with the process, to rationalize that this was truly happening. The bond his mother shared with him while she carried him felt distant, removed from me.

I couldn’t envision the love or nurture I might feel. Instead, I fixated on the changes ahead, on how I would navigate them, and on how I would prepare myself to let go of the person I had worked so hard to become.

Then it happened.

When my son was born on November 25, 2025, and I held him for the first time, my life and mindset changed forever.

It was as if a switch flipped. Something primal. Inherent. Instantaneous. Unconditional love. The kind of love you’d fight a bear for, even though you didn’t yet know this little human in your arms.

Men may miss the hormonal connection women experience during pregnancy, but when a father holds his child for the first time, oxytocin floods his system. The bond forms almost instantly. Real, physical, and undeniable.

That bond deepens even further when you watch your partner carry and care for your child. Another oxytocin release triggers, admiration sharpens, and the pair bond tightens. Love deepens on an instinctual level that words barely touch.

This experience alone dissolves the fear of losing your life as you knew it.

And the weeks that follow only reinforce it. Not through hardship, but through rhythm. Through learning how to move together. Through the coordination that forms between two people adjusting to something entirely new.

Then come the firsts.

The first smile that isn’t reflex.

The first hint of a laugh.

The first moment you realize he recognizes you.

And something shifts.

The things you once thought defined you begin to rearrange themselves. Not because they mattered less, but because something matters more. Time takes on a different shape. Priorities settle naturally. What once felt like sacrifice now feels like alignment.

You don’t disappear inside this role.

You step into it together.

You haven’t lost yourself.

You’ve grown into someone else.

You’ve changed.

- Written by Mike Brion