“My beloved little girl, I want to bring you lily lanterns to light your slumbers… Sleep well. Grow quickly. You’ve a long road ahead, and just a pair of sandals made of sky to take you there”
These lines—tender and luminous—are from “Morning Star”, the long poem Yiannis Ritsos, one of Greece’s most significant 20th-century poets, dedicated to his newborn daughter.
Written in the 1950s, when rigid notions of masculinity still defined public and private life, the poem stands as a testament to unfiltered tenderness and love. In it, a father lays bare his emotions, his hopes, and his deepest wish: that his daughter grows into her truest self and carries within her what the world most needs.
Decades later, the idea of fatherhood continues to shift as roles are redefined and expectations renegotiated. In light of International Father’s Day, TO BHMA International Edition spoke with three fathers who reflect on what it means to raise a child today: the challenges, the emotional labor, and the evolution of what it means to simply be a “dad.”
Congratulations,it’s a… girl
Just days before finding out the gender of his now seven-year-old daughter, Vasilis Nanouris, a teacher, musician and writer, found himself haunted by a familiar Greek phrase: “May it not be a girl.”
“Τhis sentence kept coming back to me,” he says. “It was like an echo from deep inside.” That echo became the inspiration for a song that challenges gender stereotypes and patriarchy, which subsequently went viral. Since then, Nanouris has become one of Greece’s most outspoken male voices on parenting and gender, using his social media presence—and, more recently, his book—to challenge long-held norms.
“I don’t know if I’d have fought against stereotypes had I had a boy—or if I’d have simply accepted the status quo. Now, I’m glad—on a personal level, of course, but also because I don’t believe children should be raised differently based on gender. Not at all.”
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Becoming a father, says Nanouris, quickly dispelled any illusions he had about idealized parenthood.
“As soon as you become a parent, the first thing that goes is this whole image of a perfect post-partum scenario: this idea that motherhood proceeds without difficulties.”
Actor Michalis Economou, who is raising his son with his partner, echoes that reality.
“There’s no manual, no script, no rehearsal, no director saying ‘let’s do another take.’ Every reaction is the reaction. There’s no second chance. And that’s terrifying. But also deeply moving.”
Finding balance, he adds, is a constant challenge. “Between yourself, your best self, your flaws, your job, and your daily presence as a father. No one is ever fully ready for it.”

Actor Michalis Economou with his son.
Meanwhile, Kostis, a 45-year-old father who prefers to remain partially anonymous, reflects on how fatherhood changed for him after his divorce, as he was forced to redefine his role in shaping his daughter’s personality over and over again.
“Fatherhood can be a fluid situation that passes through multiple stages. My daughter changes, so there’s something in me that changes with her—and she changes faster than we adults do.
I see a person taking shape before my eyes, and I contribute to shaping them, to the extent that it falls to me to do so. And it’s a crucial experience for me.”
“The hardest part?” asks Economou. “It’s the part of myself I have to change to become the best version of who I am—so my child has the best role model at home. So it matters now if I act on impulse or get impatient. It matters if I haven’t put money aside or planned ahead. And that’s new. Because I’m not just responsible for myself now, I’m responsible for another human being. For a family. And at the same time, it’s about raising that person to become a good human being.”
“A huge part of the struggle,” Nanouris says, “is not losing sight of yourself. There’s immense joy in fatherhood, but also deep exhaustion and a heavy responsibility that no one really prepares you for.”
Fatherhood and Gender Roles
“For decades, fatherhood was defined by societal expectations that cast men as strong, silent providers, but not as nurturers,” explains developmental clinical psychologist and therapist Suzana Papafagou.
Nanouris, is determined not to pass those expectations on to his daughter. “The father’s role isn’t just to assist the mother, it’s to take on an equal share of the parenting,” he says.
“In many cultures, masculinity is still constructed around self-sufficiency, silent strength, and emotional detachment,” Papafagou notes.
Nanouris echoes her sentiment: “Many people still don’t grasp the importance of emotional closeness—giving your child space, holding them when they need it. We were raised by parents who often managed or even suppressed our emotions. Breaking that pattern is hard.”
Speaking to a broader cultural blind spot, Kostis adds that emotional support for fathers is still often sorely lacking. “In the public imaginary, when a mother is going through hard times, people rally around her. That same empathy is often missing for fathers,” he explains.
Drawing on her own experience as a family therapist and group analyst, Papafagou elaborates: “Many modern fathers want to be more present and involved, but they have to struggle against both internal and external obstacles: social expectations, professional pressures, and at times, a partner system that, often unconsciously, preserves the exclusivity of maternal care. And, often, it is the fathers’ own failure to recognize that they can and have the right to exist as caregivers that constitutes the biggest obstacle of them all.” She also adds that “maternal” and “paternal” care are not tied to gender or biology—they are complementary psychological roles. “Children need both, and either parent can inhabit them fluidly, based on the needs of the moment.”
“Working on their emotions and summoning the courage to embrace vulnerability can help men push through the stereotypes that disconnect them from their children,” she concludes.
So, what does ‘Dad’ mean today?
All three men pause to think.
Nanouris hopes emotional intimacy and availability become a natural part of fatherhood: “Live it and you understand it’s right—to want it and to do it, not because you have to, but because you feel it and see that it builds a better relationship between you and your child, from which you also benefit.”
Kostis offers a more transformative perspective: “Ultimately, fatherhood for me is the only process where you literally don’t think about yourself. All the other core processes, more or less, are egocentric—even love. But parenthood is something that forces you to think beyond yourself.”
Economou echoes this: “It’s a total redefinition of the self. First, you have to believe that you’re a father now—because you might have a child, but that can feel distant in time. Then you throw yourself into doing what needs to be done: into caring, protecting, playing. It’s a daily miracle. It’s not only the big moments: the birth, the first steps, the first words, the first teeth. It’s also the chaos, the sleepless nights, the thousands of times you hear ‘Dad!’ every day.
“Dad isn’t just one thing anymore,” Economou says. “It can be a working dad, a stepdad, a father figure. It can be a grandfather raising his grandchild alone. The feel of ‘Dad’ can exist in a family with two moms. The word has many colors now, many names. And perhaps it will keep on evolving further in the future.”