After seeing an actor launch a campaign just like Letters to Leo, I felt that sting of comparison - until a friend reminded me what it really means to lift together.

I’ve never been sent so many press articles by people saying - “you need to see this’. 

An actor I really admire, Stephen Graham, launched a global campaign encouraging fathers to write to their sons. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

When I saw the headline, I felt that quiet panic that creeps in when you think someone might have taken your idea or swallowed up the little space you’ve been carving out for yourself.

The truth is, he doesn’t know me. He won’t have seen Letters to Leo.
But still, that quiet whisper of comparison tapped me on the shoulder.

Then I had a chat with my good friend, Max. He didn’t say much, but what he did say landed exactly where it needed to.
He said: “A rising tide lifts all ships.”

Simple. Powerful. Exactly what I needed to hear.

Because here’s the thing, Leo, sometimes the work we’re doing, the purpose we’re chasing, isn’t meant to be ours alone.
When something matters deeply, like helping dads reconnect with their children, it becomes bigger than us. It becomes a movement.

It reminded me of one of the hardest races I’ve ever run, the Marathon des Sables, a 250km footrace across the Sahara Desert.
Totally self-sufficient.
Anything you think you might need for seven days in the desert, you carry: food, water, camping kit, medical supplies, clothes… even snake bite repellent (no joke).
That race tested my patience and resilience far more than my fitness. It quickly became a game of how much can you take, not how fast can you run.

I remember one moment clearly: a diagonal line of runners moving up the beach, the front runner peeling off every few minutes to let the next take the wind.
It’s called a peloton, you see the same thing in cycling. It’s fascinating to watch.
Each person shares the load. They move faster together than any one could alone.
It was efficient. Impressive. Human.
A collective effort to survive the headwind and make it off that endless beach.

That’s what this feels like.
Stephen’s the front runner today, breaking the wind for the rest of us.
Tomorrow, it might be me.
And one day, it might be you.

Because the race that truly matters, the one worth running, isn’t about recognition, followers, or numbers. It’s about connection.
With ourselves.
With each other.
With the people we love most.

And every father who picks up a pen to write to his child adds another drop to that tide.
So let it rise.

Always,
Daddy

Readers responses:

Each week, I’m humbled by the messages that come in from you guys, the readers - the parents, soon-to-be-parents, or simply the people trying to make sense of who they’re becoming.

Here’s a couple that stayed with me from last week:

“Powerful, meaningful and impactful.

I am loving your ‘Letters to Leo’ and find your style of writing so inspiring. Sometimes saying less means more and I love how your letters are short enough to catch in the middle of the hustle/bustle and juggle of everyday life with a young toddler. But most importantly, the words mean something. They have real impact and are so relatable.  Thank you for writing and for sharing, you are giving me a way to connect to the incredible father to my son. And for that I applaud you. He is a man of few words and you connect with him so well. So thank you, keep doing what you are doing and changing lives, challenging the normal and making us talk”. 

All the best, Sarah

“7:25am and I’m sat on the edge of my bed reading and this hit me deep. I really look forward to reading your messages every week it’s a small gap in my day that I can sit and reflect and I’m thinking about taking the leap and journaling”. 

Emma x  

A few moments from last week - conversations that sparked reflection and frames that tell their own quiet stories.

LEFT: A chat with Louise on He Said, She Said - saying GOODBYE, for now…

RIGHT: A truth revealed that sparked a lot of comments and clicks of the ‘forward post’ button.

If this letter resonated with you, I’d love for you to share it with someone who might need it too - or better yet, invite them to subscribe to ‘Letters to Leo’.

Here’s your magic link to pass on to the people in your world.

P.S.

Thank you for taking the time to read this letter. I hope, in some small way, it helped you pause, reflect and feel a little more connected.

P.p.s

If you’re a father (or Mother), pick up a pen today and write a letter to your child.