When Donald Trump announced his new child care plan last month, which included six weeks of paid maternity leave for women, I thought, A step forward in policy; a step backward in language. His rhetoric focused on mothers—there was little mention of stay-at-home dads like me. And that hurts moms, dads, and all primary caregivers.

The last thing I want to do here is start mansplaining the benefits of full-time parenting. And I won’t argue that stay-at-home dads have it tougher than women. No contest there. But if we want more moms and dads to be supported in their parenting choices, we need to talk about some of the challenges.

My brief story: A year ago, I left my office job in New York City to become the full-time caregiver to our son, then five, and two-year-old twins. My wife had put her career on hold after having the twins, and when she went back to work, and after weighing the childcare options, it just made the most practical sense for me to move into the primary role. I also recognized that my feminist values didn't mean much if I couldn't put them into practice in a very personal way. I needed to actually challenge myself to expand what I saw as the role of men, while also making space for my wife to advance her career. Plus, I was excited to spend more time with my kids.

And that was all great…until theory became reality.

Kathryne Hall

I knew the learning curve would be steep, but one of the biggest challenges had nothing to do with actual childcare. When announcing that I was leaving my job, I had a lot of anxiety about being judged harshly for it. Not having any stay-at-home dads among my family, friends, or colleagues to be role models intensified the sense that I was crossing an invisible line. I was surprised how much I felt captive to a stereotype of manhood that I had intellectually rejected but couldn’t emotionally escape. And so while I received kind words of support from others, I still feared silent judgment.

In the first weeks at home with the kids, that fear was isolating. One night out with a group of dad friends, as the only stay-at-homer, I suddenly felt like I had gone through the looking glass. I confessed that I had a new perspective: I now saw things from the other side, and they should absolutely be more grateful to their wives. But even with their good intentions, I had the sense they had no idea what I was talking about. At the same time, hanging out with my new at-home mom friends, I felt like I was taking my wife’s seat at their community table—and performing her role inadequately. In both groups, I felt like an outsider.