Brotherhood of Dads wouldn't be what it is without the people who believe in what we're building.

🏛️ Denbigh Town Council

🍺 The Plough, Denbigh

☕ Babyccino Café

🍗 The Romi'ng Wolf

🌟 Sky High Achievers Melandra Day Nursery

How’s It Running? | Dads, Mental Health and the Warning Signs We Ignore

Most of us wouldn't think twice about taking a car to the garage.

Every year it gets an MOT.

If the tyres wear out, we replace them.

If there's a puncture, we get it repaired.

If somebody reverses into us and leaves a dent, we get a quote.

If there's a strange warning light on the dashboard, we wonder what it means.

If the engine starts making a noise it wasn't making before, most of us at least consider getting somebody to have a look.

Or perhaps we just turn the radio up a little louder and hope it goes away.

We wash it.

We hoover it.

Some of us spend our weekends polishing it until it shines.

We invest time, money and attention in maintaining something we rely upon every day.

Because most of us understand a simple truth:

Looking after something important is usually easier than fixing it after it's fallen apart.

A car doesn't have to be broken beyond repair before it deserves attention.

In fact, we spend a surprising amount of effort preventing things from getting to that stage.

And yet I wonder if we're always as good at applying the same logic to ourselves.

Take a car to a garage and the mechanic starts asking questions.

How's it running?

Have you noticed anything unusual?

Any warning lights?

Any strange noises?

Anything not quite right?

They're ordinary questions.

Nobody feels judged for asking them.

Nobody says, "Well, the engine hasn't fallen out yet, so let's just leave it."

Nobody waits for a complete breakdown before paying attention.

A good mechanic understands that small issues have a habit of becoming bigger ones.

A tyre slowly losing pressure.

A battery beginning to fail.

Worn brake pads.

A leak that's easy to ignore because there's only a few drops on the drive.

The problem isn't always what you can see today.

It's what happens if nobody looks at it for the next six months.

Which makes me wonder.

Why are we often better at doing this with our cars than we are with ourselves?

Men get warning lights too.

They just don't flash from a dashboard.

They show up in different ways.

Poor sleep.

Irritability.

Anxiety.

Exhaustion.

A shorter temper.

Feeling detached from your partner.

Not enjoying things you normally enjoy.

Drinking a little more.

Seeing friends a little less.

Lying awake at three in the morning with thoughts you can't switch off.

Feeling overwhelmed by things you would normally manage.

The difference is that cars get an MOT.

Dads don't.

There may be no annual MOT for dads, but changes in sleep, mood, patience, drinking, relationships or enjoyment can all be signs that something isn't quite right.

No certificate.

No inspection date.

No letter through the post.

Most of the time we're left to make that judgement for ourselves.

And because we're still getting up, going to work, paying the bills and looking after everyone else, it's easy to assume everything must be fine.

The car is still moving, after all.

Which is one reason communities like Brotherhood of Dads matter.

Not because dads are broken.

Not because having a hard time means something is wrong with you.

But because sometimes life starts running a little rough and it helps to have somewhere you can say so.

Somebody needs to ask the sort of questions a mechanic would ask.

How are things going?

Are you sleeping?

How are you coping?

Anything not quite right?

Because many dads become experts at keeping going.

We get up.

We go to work.

We look after the kids.

We support our partners.

We carry responsibilities.

We solve problems.

We keep things moving.

And we tell people we're fine.

The car is still moving, after all.

And let's be honest, most of us have ignored a warning light from time to time.

Or heard a strange noise and decided to turn the radio up.

We'll deal with it next week.

After payday.

When work settles down.

When the kids are sleeping through the night.

When life gets a bit less busy.

Until eventually the warning light becomes part of the dashboard.

Until the noise becomes part of the journey.

A slow puncture doesn't become less real because somebody else's engine has failed.

Yet men do that to themselves all the time.

Other people have it worse.

I've got a job.

I've got a home.

I should be grateful.

Maybe.

But the warning light is still on.

Which raises a simple question.

How's it running?

Not the car.

You.

And if your immediate response is "Fine", perhaps that's worth sitting with for a moment.

Because many dads are carrying more than they let on.

The dad who normally joins in has gone quiet.

The dad who seems to be coping isn't quite himself.

The dad everyone relies upon is finding things harder than he admits.

Perhaps that's one way of understanding Brotherhood of Dads.

Not as a repair shop for broken men.

More like a garage where dads can pull in for a chat.

A place where somebody might notice the noise you've been pretending not to hear.

A place where another dad might say, "Mine did that too."

A place where you don't need to arrive on the back of a recovery truck before you're welcome.

Because support shouldn't be reserved for crisis.

We don't wait until an engine seizes before taking care of a car.

We shouldn't have to wait until life falls apart before taking care of ourselves.

Maybe the message really is that simple.

Dads don't have to wait until something breaks before saying something isn't quite right.

We can notice the warning lights earlier.

We can say when things aren't running as smoothly as they normally do.

And we can pull in somewhere like Brotherhood of Dads long before we need the recovery truck.

Perhaps we get better at noticing the warning lights.

Listening to the noises.

Checking in with each other.

And occasionally pulling into the garage simply because it's been a while.

Because there is no prize for seeing how far you can drive with the warning light on.

And turning up the radio doesn't make the noise go away.