When Daughters Raise Their Fathers
The Emotional Journey of Millennial Desi Dads in Australia
By Rinchaal Patel,
Mindset and Relationship Coach,
YOLO Academy
“She tells me she loves me every night before bed. I am 36 years old and I have never said that to my own father.”
In those few words lies the quiet revolution happening in the hearts of millennial desi migrant fathers raising daughters in Australia.
These are men caught in-between, between generations, between cultures, between who they were told to be, and who they’re trying to become.
They were raised by fathers who were respected, sometimes feared—but rarely known. Love was not absent; it was never spoken out loud. Affection was not expressed through hugs, but rather through actions. And now, these men are raising daughters who expect presence and vulnerability. They look their fathers in the eye and say:
“I’m sad.” “You didn’t listen to me.” “You hurt my feelings.”
And in those moments, something cracks open within them, a small voice says, “I don’t want my daughter to feel what I felt. I want her to feel seen. Safe. Soft inside.”
The 3 S’s of 1980s Fatherhood: Silence. Sacrifice. Structure.
For many Indian fathers in the 80s and 90s, parenting wasn’t about emotional closeness- it was about resilience. They wanted to bestow upon their children the survival skills, that were part of the unspoken masculine code of upbringing that was passed down over generations. Silence, Sacrifice and Structure were the foundations of parenting in the 80s and 90s.
Silence, because vulnerability was considered dangerous.
Sacrifice, because love meant working without rest, not words.
Structure, because order and control were needed for survival in a rebuilding, post-colonial India.
And so, affection was shown in subtle gestures:
• A fan left on during a late-night study session.
• The ripest mango set aside for you.
• A reprimand masking deep worry.
You were raised to obey, perform, and achieve; but rarely to feel. Rarely to ask, “Do you love me?” Rarely to hear, “I am proud of you.”
These boys, now men, carried both the strength and the scars of that upbringing into adulthood, starting families of their own and raising sons and daughters, in a different land, in a different time.
A New Landscape: Daughters Who Demand Emotional Fluency
Parenting daughters in modern Australia means navigating a world of bedtime check-ins, school workshops on emotional regulation, and family counsellors who encourage “feeling charts.” For men raised on stoicism and silence, it can feel like stepping onto another planet.
Your daughters become the catalyst for emotional growth within you, a growth you never thought was needed or was possible for that matter. When your daughter’s ask you big questions and speak even bigger truths, you gather the courage to answer them honestly, holding space for them to express themselves- one awkward conversation at a time.
And slowly, unknowingly, these girls begin to raise their fathers.
Raising Daughters, Remembering Sons
When your daughter curls up in your lap after a long day and says, “Papa, I wanted to tell you what I saw outside and you didn’t listen, that hurt my feelings,” you remember being eight years old, doing everything right and still wondering if you mattered.
When she cries because she doesn’t understand why someone was unkind, you remember suppressing your own tears to “be a man.”
In comforting her, you begin to comfort yourself. In saying “I’m here for you,” you begin to hear it for the first time from your own mouth to your own heart.
In saying sorry to your daughter, you realise that she matters just as you mattered when you were her age. Just because your father never apologised doesn’t mean he was cruel, he was never taught how.
This is more than parenting. It is re-parenting. It is healing. It is honouring the parenting journey in its entirety.
Conversations That Never Happened-Now Beginning
Some men find themselves suddenly craving conversations with their own fathers, wanting the warmth and comfort of that paternal love that their inner child so desperately craves.
They pick up the phone, uncertain of what to say, only knowing something needs to be said. Sometimes, it ends in silence. Other times, in small breakthroughs, a father saying, “In our culture we don’t say I love you, but I do love you.”
And sometimes, there is no reply at all. Just a quiet resolution: “I may not get the closure I needed. But I can give my child what I never had.”
In that quiet resolution, there is acceptance. Accepting the way we were parented and supported as a child and bringing awareness to how we parent, help us make better choices.
Breaking the Silence, One “I Love You” at a Time
Saying “I love you” isn’t always easy for desi men. The words feel foreign, clumsy. But they try, because they know that their daughters need it and so did they.
Each bedtime story, each apology, each gentle touch, they are not just acts of parenting. They are acts of personal redemption.
“My father was a good man,” says Aman “But I never really knew him. I want my daughter to know me.”
Five Truths Millennial Desi Fathers Are Learning While Raising Daughters:
1. Love is a language, and it must be spoken.
For generations, desi fathers showed love through provision, protection, and presence, but rarely through words. Now, their daughters crave (and demand) emotional fluency. Saying “I love you” no longer gets stuck in the throat. It flows, slowly but surely, into bedtime routines, lunchbox notes, and school drop-offs. Love has found a new dialect, and it sounds like vulnerability, warmth, and presence.
2. Healing begins with awareness.
You cannot change what you never name. Many of these fathers are beginning to recognise the emotional gaps in their own childhoods, not to blame, but to better understand. This awareness allows them to notice their own triggers, pause before reacting, and offer their children what they themselves never received: emotional safety.
3. You don’t need to be perfect to be protective.
The myth of the flawless father is slowly being dismantled. Today’s daughters don’t need superheroes. They need someone who shows up, stays soft, and tries again when he fails. By allowing themselves to be seen messy, human, and unsure, these dads offer their children a template for real-world resilience and relational safety.
4. Raising daughters can soften what patriarchy hardened.
The same patriarchal conditioning that silenced women also numbed men. Fathering daughters is becoming a powerful act of resistance, an invitation to unlearn toxic masculinity, embrace tenderness, and reimagine strength. As these men make space for emotion, they reclaim parts of themselves they once had to suppress.
5. Breaking cycles is painful and sacred.
Rewriting generational scripts doesn’t come easy. It means sitting with discomfort, holding your child while grieving your own lost childhood, and choosing connection over control. But in every conscious choice to listen instead of lecture, to hug instead of hit, to admit instead of hide a new legacy is being born.
A New Masculinity: Quiet, Soft, and Strong
The modern desi father is not content with being respected from a distance. He wants to be known. He is learning that softness isn’t weakness, it is strength redefined. It is what tells his daughter: “You are safe with me.” And what tells his inner child: “You are safe now, too.”
He kneels beside her when she cries. He apologises when he is wrong. He holds space instead of holding back. He calls his own father not just for logistics, but for connection. And one night, when his daughter whispers, “You are the best dad in the world,” he doesn’t deflect. He doesn’t freeze. He smiles and says, “Thank you, beta. That means everything.” And just like that the silence breaks.
The Legacy Being Built
Millennial desi fathers raising daughters in Australia are not just creating new family dynamics. They are building emotional bridges across time, culture, and memory. They are shifting from command to connection. From silence to speech.
When their daughters crawl into bed at night and whisper, “Papa, I love you,” they don’t freeze. They respond, “I love you too, beta, always.”
And just like that, the silence breaks and a new story of fatherhood begins.
