The Lie of Labels
We live in a culture obsessed with labels.
Conservative. Influencer. Activist. Ally. Feminist. Father.
We slap a label on someone and pretend it means something.
But here’s the truth: labels don’t make you the thing.
You can call yourself a father all day long—but if all you contributed was three minutes and thirty-seven seconds (generous estimate, and yes, that includes foreplay), then what you really were… was a sperm donor. Congratulations. But that doesn’t make you a dad.
Same goes for “stepdad.” That word says nothing about who you are—it just tells the world that you didn’t supply the seed. That’s it.
So this Father’s Day, let’s stop confusing the label with the legacy.
Let’s stop pretending biology earns you reverence.
Let’s stop holding up men who did the bare minimum while overlooking the men who gave everything they had and got no label, no credit, no damn name on the wall.
And let’s start honoring the men who chose to be our fathers.
Sperm Donor Day
Let me be clear: this isn’t about shaming biological dads.
If you showed up—really showed up—if you raised your kids, carried the load, stayed in the game even when it was thankless and brutal, then you’ve earned the title and the respect that comes with it.
But too many men disappeared after conception and still walk around like this day is for them.
Let’s call it what it is: Sperm Donor Day.
Meanwhile, there’s a silent army of men who weren’t there at the start but chose to be there every damn day after.
No obligation. No fanfare. Just devotion.
And they’re the ones Father’s Day should be about.
They didn’t have to.
No court order.
No genetic link.
Just choice.
Just love.
Just commitment.
And that? That’s the deepest definition of fatherhood there is.
A Real Father Named Jerry
I think of a guy I’ll call Jerry. Jerry didn’t father any children biologically. Not one. But when he married their mother, he took her kids as his own. He’s raised them. Paid for them. Prayed for them. He’s been to their graduations. Sat through parent-teacher conferences. Waited up at night. Paid the price—financially, emotionally, spiritually. All in.
But still, he’s not always given a say. Not always given the same rights. Sometimes not even given the name: father.
Why? Because he didn’t contribute DNA?
Screw that.
If a man pours his time, energy, love, presence, and money into a child’s life, then by any real measure, he is the father.
And that man is not a “stepfather.”
He’s a father who has stepped up—and that makes him a father.
Retire the Word “Stepfather”
We need to retire the term stepfather for good.
Because steps are what you walk on.
And the men I’m talking about?
They’re not steps.
They’re pillars.
They’re the foundation.
They’re the ones holding it all together, holding it all up, often without recognition or reward.
They’re the fathers in every meaningful sense of the word—even if they never passed on a strand of DNA.
This One’s Personal
This one’s personal.
My biological father—who I loved with everything I had—chose to leave this world. He left my siblings and me with a mountain of pain, confusion, and unanswered questions. He left a mess behind that we’re still working through.
But someone else showed up.
Howard.
He married my mother later in life. He didn’t try to replace my dad. He didn’t push his way in. But he stood steady. He gave of himself. He offered us a different kind of presence. Quiet. Grounded. Humble.
And my kids call him Grandpa. Not step-Grandpa. Just Grandpa. Because that’s what he is.
He’s not my biological father. But he’s been a father to me. And for that, I don’t need a blood test to know what to call him. Fine—so I don’t call him “Dad,” I call him Howie. But make no mistake—he’s still a father to me. He earned it. With presence. With consistency. With love. The things that actually matter.
Men Rising in the Second Half of Life
And let’s not forget what this means for the men reading this—especially the men rising up in the second half of life.
Because the truth is, by now, most of us aren’t donating swimmers anymore. And let’s be honest, they’re not exactly breaking Olympic records in the butterfly stroke these days. The fatherhood you’re being invited into at this stage of life? It’s not about biology. It’s not about sperm. It’s about spirit.
It’s about rising up and becoming a true father—to your partner’s kids, to your community, to the younger men around you who never had a model, never had a mentor, never had a man show up and stay.
That’s the invitation.
That’s the opportunity.
That’s the sacred responsibility.
Every man in the second half of life has a choice to make.
You can step back—or you can step up.
You can disappear—or you can become the father someone else never had.
You can check out—or you can check in and claim the role that no one assigned you, but the world desperately needs you to fill.
Maybe that looks like leveling up your relationship with your own kids—taking them out one-on-one, telling them what you’ve never said, actually listening instead of lecturing.
Maybe it means marrying the woman and finally claiming her kids—not just legally, but emotionally.
Or maybe it’s time to mentor. To volunteer. To join Big Brothers, coach the team, teach the class, or just be the steady presence that some kid in your neighborhood is desperate for.
You don’t have to change the whole world.
Just someone’s world.
Let’s Get This Right
So this Father’s Day, let’s get this right.
Let’s celebrate the fathers who earned the name by doing the work.
Let’s honor the men who chose to be fathers when no one was looking.
Let’s lift up the ones who didn’t have to—but did.
Let’s stop worshiping titles and start honoring men who’ve lived the truth.
Let’s raise a glass to the ones who step up and father us—not just on this day, but every damn day.
And let’s become one of them.
Dr. Baruch “B” HaLevi is co-founder of Man UPrising, a movement helping men rise UP in the second half of life through bold coaching and brotherhood—mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. He also leads The Defiant Spirit, where he offers meaning-centered counseling and coaching rooted in Viktor Frankl’s Logotherapy and the Enneagram. B works with men and women who are done going through the motions and ready to start living with clarity, courage, and purpose.
