Father's Day

David Vinet has given me more opportunities to be the different versions of myself that I need to be than almost anyone else in my life today.

I met David when he offered a service exchange so that his kids could attend one of my events. I eagerly accepted, and in return I met three seriously awesome kids and got my garage classroom painted and drywalled.

Over the last few years, David has become my handyman, my friend, and, apparently, my adopted brother. More importantly, he has given me the incredible privilege of building trust with his children and helping guide them through life’s challenges. He has welcomed me into his family in a casual and comfortable way that I have rarely had the opportunity to experience.

His kids have embraced me, and I treasure every minute I get to spend with them. Through them, David has given me a glimpse into a family life that I never had and didn’t realize I was missing.

Then, on occasional weekends in the summer, he takes me out to the quad site for LARP, live-action role-play. There, he becomes Damien, my brother, and I become Paraskavia. Together, we step into another world where I get to dust off my improvisation skills and remember that imagination isn’t an escape from life. It’s part of how I survive it.

The funny thing is that none of these versions of me are pretend. They’re all real. Teacher. Mentor. Sister. Friend. Adventurer. Storyteller. David has simply created spaces where each of them gets to exist.

That gift is bigger than it sounds. It allows me to set down the pressures of the real world and simply have a hobby, an escape, and a source of joy. It reminds me that no matter how difficult life becomes, there is always room for play, imagination, and belonging.

David has shown me that family isn’t always something we’re born into. Sometimes it’s something that quietly grows around us until one day we realize we’ve been adopted without anyone ever having to say the words.

He didn’t invite me into his family with a grand speech or a formal declaration. He just kept making room for me. His kids welcomed me. His home welcomed me. His hobbies welcomed me. Somewhere along the way, without either of us really noticing, I stopped feeling like a guest and started feeling like I belonged.

For someone who has spent much of life building communities rather than inheriting them, that is an extraordinary gift. I feel like I’ve been adopted, and I love him for it.

Thank you, David, for showing me that family can be built one act of trust at a time.