What ‘Being There’ Actually Looks Like

I used to think being there meant showing up.

Physically.
On time.
For the full duration.

But as a parent, especially one who spends most weekdays at work, I’ve learned that “being there” is not always about where your body is.

It’s about where your attention lives — and how your child feels you, even when you’re not around.

I don’t see my children every day. Most weeks, it’s Friday night and the weekend. That used to bother me. I worried about what I was missing. About what they might need from me when I wasn’t present.

Over time, something shifted.

I realized that to them, I wasn’t measured in hours. I was a character.

The one who is brave.
The one who isn’t afraid of things.
The one who seems to know the answers — and also admits when he doesn’t.

When they come to me with problems, I don’t try to solve everything. I try to respond in a way that reflects those qualities. Calm. Thoughtful. Sometimes firm. Sometimes stepping back.

I’m strict about discipline. But occasionally, I leave an open door — not because rules don’t matter, but because I want them to discover their own intelligence. Their own capability.

That, to me, is also being there.

I’ve noticed something else too. Children are surprisingly good at dealing with boredom. They don’t need to be constantly entertained or scheduled. In fact, when we try too hard to fill every moment, we may take something away from them — the instinct to figure things out on their own.

Being there doesn’t always mean doing things with them.

Sometimes it means trusting them enough to step aside.

To be available, not hovering.
To be present, not controlling.
To be a steady reference point, even from a distance.

I don’t think children need us beside them at every moment.

I think they need to feel us — consistently, clearly, and in a way that makes them feel safe enough to grow on their own.

That’s what being there looks like to me.