Let me tell you the story of a girl with a stick up her ass (that’s me) and a boy named Vince who was full of dreams but didn’t quite know what to do with them… until he met me. The universe exploded in purpose, meaning, and love, and then—BAM! Before we knew it, our dreams came true, and out popped babies one, two, and three.
That’s a love story right there, but we’re not at happily ever after yet.
While it sounds magical (and it is!), anyone knee-deep in marriage and parenting will tell you that raising a family is also a whole lot of mess and madness. Because the work that goes into a marriage? Hard. Parenting? Even harder. And raising three boys to become good men in a world that keeps rewarding the bare minimum of manhood? That’s not a fairy tale at all—that’s a daily act of intention because good men shouldn’t just exist in fairy tales, but in real life.
For a feminist mother like me, who never quite lost that edge of seriousness, it’s crucial to have a partner who believes in raising sons who not only value and respect women, but who are themselves valued and respected by other men for those very qualities.
Tough job! That’s why I’m so grateful for Vince. He never quite lost his big-hearted belief in dreams, and who is now intentional about raising sons who are kind, thoughtful, and strong in all the ways that matter.
Now, my husband doesn’t wear “male ally” T-shirts or spend hours on social media creating lucrative content about feminist fatherhood. He’s too busy living it. In how he treats me. In how he respects my work and encourages it. And in how he raises our three boys—like it’s not a favor, but his responsibility, his calling, his joy.
His parenting smells like cooking steak and carbonara with the boys while teaching them that caring for family isn’t a woman’s job—it’s a human one.
There’s a quiet beauty in the way he parents. It looks like working for a living and making his author dreams come true while prioritizing his wife and children so that we have no idea what a “weekend dad” means. It smells like cooking steak and carbonara with the boys while teaching them that caring for family isn’t a woman’s job—it’s a human one. It sounds like Broadway musicals playing in the car, transforming notorious traffic jams into shared moments of joy and patience.
It’s cleaning the house while chatting about world history and science. It’s the school run turned story time, adventure hour, or a deep dive into movie plots. It’s showing them how to escape the drudgery of the daily grind, not by shielding them from it but by finding art, humor, and meaning in the everyday.
He listens—really listens—to their stories, questions, rants, and jokes that never seem to end. He makes space for all their growing-boy thoughts and feelings. And because of that, they learn that being a man may be tough, but it doesn’t mean being hard.
Cooking? Cleaning? Softness? Isn’t that the mom’s job?
Not in this house. In our family, parenting is the parents’ job. There are no traditional gender roles here. In our home, feminism isn’t a buzzword—heck, we don’t even say it unless we need to, and that’s a rare occurrence. That’s just how we do things. We’re raising our boys to notice who’s hurting, to speak kindly, to clean up after themselves (and their feelings), to cook, to care, and to lead with love. That’s the job of a mom and a dad.
If there’s anything traditionally done in this house, it has to do with moisturizer. As a beauty writer, I try to guide my sons gently on their grooming habits. It’s not enough to take a shower. Boys need sunscreen, too! And I recommend it come in tinted moisturizer form. Hairstyle choices and which conditioner and hair product to use? That’s a serious discussion. And deodorant? Non-negotiable.
This is an ongoing battle I’ve largely fought alone. Despite my beauty credentials, my boys would rather take grooming advice from their dad, who believes a man only needs these things in the bathroom: toothpaste, face wash, shampoo, a bar of no-nonsense soap, a razor, and deodorant.
Luckily, Vince respects what I bring to the table. So by some small miracle of teamwork, our sons now know what toner is and why deodorant is not optional. That’s why it matters so much for both parents to be involved in grooming. Even if one of them thinks toner is a scam.
There’s truly something so beautiful about how we’re figuring this out together. After all, this is our first time to be parents and we’ve only got one shot at this gig, and I take it so seriously, it hurts. So it’s such a relief that I’m married to a man who injects a lot of joy and magic into something that can feel so heavy. He makes the hard work of parenting not just bearable, but beautiful. It’s been so fun!
We’re teaching our sons that being a man isn’t about being tough or macho. It’s about being thoughtful. Present. Honest. Wise. Brave in the ways that truly matter and always willing to serve.
We’ve been parents for 15 years now. And let me just say: Parenting boys is hard. You spend so much of the early years just trying to keep them alive and injury-free. Little boys are wild! Most of those baby and toddler years were all about safety, self-awareness, and teaching them how to be smart and strong enough to navigate the world.
Now that we’re in the adolescent stage, the lessons are shifting. We’re doubling down on consent, gentleness, kindness, patience, and self-control. We’re teaching our sons that being a man isn’t about being tough or macho. It’s about being thoughtful. Present. Honest. Wise. Brave in the ways that truly matter and always willing to serve.
And, my goodness, it’s working! I’ve never known such wonderful boys in my life. Oh, I did. Once upon a time, when I met a boy named Vince, who’s now the man who brings up our children to be the best human beings they can be.
This Father’s Day, I celebrate the man who not only made me a mommy but also raises them so well as a daddy. I thought I loved Vince before—back when his humor and love helped me relax, enjoy life, and dream big dreams and make them all come true. But I love him more now, watching him be a Papa. I love how he shows up every day with strength and tenderness, creativity and wisdom. I love how he shows up with me to raise not just good kids, but good men.
Parenting together is our true love story. And if we do this right, it’s the real happy ever after—one that will keep unfolding not just for me and Vince, but for our sons and their future.
Frances Amper Sales is the author of Not Invisible. She’s married to novelist Vincent Sales. They have three sons and a home full of books, hobbies, and very loud music.
