Why we built this.

A letter from Ryan & Bobby

We’re two dads. Between us we’ve got five kids, two marriages we’re trying to get right, careers that used to be the most important thing we had going, and a growing suspicion that the way we’ve been handling all of it isn’t actually working.

Here’s what we noticed: guys are terrible at talking about the stuff that actually matters. We’ve got fantasy football, a few group chats with good banter, and a magical golf weekend once a year. We chat with other dads at our kids’ activities about how we have no time, how crazy life is. But we rarely get past the surface.

And the surface is where the real stuff hides.

Everything changes when you have kids. Your social life dwindles. Friends move. Their kids are different ages than yours, and suddenly the people you did everything with are in a different phase. Your career becomes a trade-off. You’re leaving a call at 5:45 to get your kid to practice, and wondering what that costs you. Your body stops bouncing back. Your finances get complicated in ways nobody warned you about. All of it happens at the same time.

At earlier phases of life, the recipe felt simpler. Life stressful? Go for a long bike ride. Work demanding? Stay late, grind, get promoted. Relationship in a rough spot? Have a quiet dinner, make it the priority. Singular. It felt like you could identify the problem, focus on it, and find a solution.

In fatherhood, there’s no buffer. There’s no quiet. Every trade-off has real stakes. And emotions come and go so fast you don’t even get to attempt to understand them.

One of us tried the quick fixes. Supplements, TRT, everything that gets marketed to guys our age. Some of it might be fine. Most of it skips the actual problem. He got close enough to depression that he went to therapy. And therapy worked. Just talking through things, being more aware of what you’re carrying around. That worked. But therapy still has a real stigma for most guys. The word itself has connotations. And between the quick fixes and a therapist’s office, there’s got to be something in between.

That’s the thing we went looking for. And we couldn’t find it.

So we built it.

What we think dads are missing is simpler than anyone makes it sound: a place to say what’s on your mind, hear someone else say “me too,” and walk away a little lighter. It’s not a path from problem to solution. It’s a path from feeling alone to understanding. From carrying it to saying it out loud to realizing a lot of other dads feel exactly the same way.

That’s Dads Anonymous. No coaching. No five-step plan. Just: I’m carrying this. Yeah, me too.

We use AI to help run it, and we’d rather just say that plainly. It doesn’t speak for anyone. It makes it easier for dads to speak for themselves.

— Ryan & Bobby

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