Fatherhood Without a Manual

Lessons, failures, and gratitude from 24 years of raising three kids.

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Anthony Alegrete spending time with his 3 kids at the nail salon getting pedicures.

Starting Without a Playbook

I didn’t get a playbook. No one sat me down and explained how to be a father. My own example growing up wasn’t great. I didn’t have someone teaching me how to be a man or how to handle money. I didn’t learn how to be a father from my dad, or from any other men in my family. Not my grandfather, not my uncles. All of them treated their children or their parents in ways that I would never treat my children. And so I never wanted to be like them.

This article isn’t meant to be a guidebook or some kind of lecture. It’s not advice in the traditional sense. This is just my story, the fatherhood lessons I’ve learned over the past 24 years, and the ones I’m still learning today. If you take something from it, great. If it gives you a new perspective or makes you reflect a bit, even better. I’m not a professional father. I’m just a man named Anthony Alegrete who has been married to the mother of my children for over 25 years. Trust me, it hasn’t been easy. There were ups and downs, heartbreaks, mistakes, and mess ups. But through it all, we raised three children the best way we could.

This is what that journey has looked like for me.

Family time is always a blessing!

No Blueprint

There’s no real manual to this thing. You learn as you go. Sometimes you get it right. A lot of times you don’t. But one thing I always wanted to give my kids was something better than what I had.

I didn’t grow up with a strong consistent father figure. My dad was in and out of my life. He tried, but his own issues, his new relationships, and his own brokenness made it hard. He and my mother fought a lot. His new wife created a wedge between us. It caused years of distance, and we lost a lot of time we could have had.

I’m not blaming him for everything. I’ve made my mistakes too. And I don’t blame her either. Now that I’m older, I’ve learned to forgive both of them and to make things better. We’ve patched it up. I also have to own my own mistakes and missteps with my father and his new wife. I was rebelling and starting a lot of problems. I was ten years old going through it, and I probably wasn’t the nicest. Looking back, I can understand why things happened the way they did.

I want to be clear about this. This article is not a bash session. It’s just me explaining how I came to be a father and how my past shaped the way I look at fatherhood today.

Still, I did learn a lot from my dad with what he did give me. I would say he’s one of the smartest people I know to this day. I respect and love him dearly. As I got older, we reconciled more. What I’m sharing here is from the perspective of my youth, from those earlier years when I was growing up and trying to figure things out.

So when it came to me becoming a father, I was walking in blind.

Anthony Alegrete and son Nickalis when he was baby (2001)

Nickalis – My Firstborn

Nickalis was born in February 2001. He was our firstborn, and he was everything you’d want in a baby. Kind, calm, happy, well behaved. Honestly, he made parenting feel like it was going to be easy. My wife and I thought, “We could have 100 kids if they’re all like this.” He didn’t cry much, always smiled, and was the type of baby that brought joy to everyone around him. He set the tone.

Nick is a people person, always has been. Even as a little kid, he was connected to all his cousins, his grandparents, everyone. And he’s stayed that way. He has this soul about him, this goodness that’s hard to explain. He doesn’t judge people. He leads with kindness and heart.

One of the moments that stands out most was the bond he had with his granny, Connie — my wife’s mother. When she was in the hospital near the end of her life in 2015, Nick was only 14 years old. It was over 100 degrees outside in Las Vegas, and he would walk every day to the hospital to be with her. It was a mile away, and he did it because he wanted to sit with her, hold her hand, just be present. That kind of love you don’t teach. It’s just in you. And Nick has it.

Around the same time, Nick was diagnosed with Tourette’s Syndrome. That was a tough season. The tics started showing, and as a young father, I didn’t know how to handle it. I was immature and ignorant. I thought maybe he could just stop the movements if he really wanted to. I’d say things like, “Come on, Nick, just stop,” like it was that simple. I didn’t understand the depth of the disorder or how powerless he was to control it.

Looking back, I know that took a toll on him. He didn’t need criticism. He needed a father who accepted him. And I didn’t always give him that. I got frustrated. I reacted in anger when I should have responded with love. And I regret that. I know he carries some of that pain with him. I take full responsibility for it. I didn’t know how to handle it, and I made it worse for him. That’s something I’ll always carry.

What’s wild is that despite all that, Nick has grown into one of the most emotionally connected people I know. He has heart. He feels things deeply. He’s caring. He loves people. He’s not out here hurting people. He’s not disrespectful. He has integrity.

But there’s a flip side too. Nick doesn’t have a lot of drive. He’s laid back in ways that are hard for me to understand. I’m a high performing, twenty hour workday type of guy. I’m obsessed with building, growing, hustling, and providing. Nick just isn’t wired like that. He doesn’t plan. He doesn’t think about the future the way I do. I think some of that comes from the Tourette’s, some of it from being overly supported and protected growing up, and some of it is just who he is.

And it’s hard to accept sometimes. Because I want more for him. I see the potential. But I’ve had to learn that just because he’s my son doesn’t mean he’s going to inherit my grind. What he does have is a kind heart, compassion, and a strong moral compass. And even though it can be frustrating to watch him drift without much urgency, I remind myself that being a good person is more important than being a workaholic. He may not always move the way I want him to, but he’s a good human being, and that’s something I can never take for granted.

Anthony Alegrete and his son Dominic after a basketball win (2015)

Dominic – The Underdog With Fire

Dominic didn’t speak until he was about three or four years old. Then one day, full sentences just came out. From the start, he was the quiet one, a kid who kept to himself. He was the type of kid you could give a cardboard box, set him in the corner, and he’d be perfectly content. We used to look at him and laugh, saying, “Where did this little guy even come from?” That was Dom: simple, steady, never needing much. But what stood out most was his discipline. He was always the smallest in the group, the last one picked, the underdog, but he never let that hold him back.

Dominic is the kind of person who will outwork everyone around him. It’s in his DNA. He got cut from his high school basketball team not once, not twice, but three years in a row. Each time he came home crushed, tears in his eyes. I comforted him, but I also made sure he understood something important, he had no one to blame but himself. I taught him about extreme ownership, the same principle Jocko Willink talks about. If you are the leader, you take ownership of everything, even the failures. I told Dom that if he wanted a spot, he had to own the outcome. So he got in the gym, worked out more, practiced harder, and sharpened his game.

By senior year, he made varsity.

That fire didn’t just appear out of nowhere. It came from being overlooked, cut, and doubted. When you’re constantly told no, you either fold or you build something inside you that refuses to quit. Dominic built that fire.

I’ll never forget the first time I saw him make a shot in a real game. You’d think it was just another basket. But when Dominic scored, the entire bench and the crowd erupted like they just won the championship game. D1 players, and the entire school (at least 1,000 kids) roared for Dominic. That moment told me everything. People weren’t just cheering for the points. They were cheering because they loved him. They knew how hard he worked, and they loved seeing him succeed.

Because I saw how badly he wanted it, I poured more of myself into him. More of my time, more coaching, more attention. That’s the secret to mentoring. When someone shows they’re hungry, you naturally lean in deeper. And with Dominic, it wasn’t just mentor and mentee. It was father and son.

One of our family traditions is that on your birthday, you get to pick where we go to dinner. Over the years, we were used to the kids picking places like Ruth’s Chris or Benihana. But when Dom was a teenager, he picked Jersey Mike’s. I asked him why, and his response was simple: “I don’t need much, Dad. Those places cost a lot, and I don’t want you and Mom to struggle to pay for it.” That’s who he is. He doesn’t need much. He’s humble to the core.

At 18, Dominic landed a job at a Fortune 500 company. No degree, just hustle and knowledge. Now at 21, he’s working in cybersecurity. He’s responsible, ethical, and laser focused. No bad habits. No distractions. He doesn’t smoke. He doesn’t drink. He has a long-term vision. He’s built differently.

He’s also building a personal brand for himself in content. For the past two and a half years, he’s been consistent on LinkedIn, sharing cybersecurity updates, insights, and his journey to becoming financially free by 25. He calls it his “Youngest In Charge” playbook. I couldn’t be prouder.

He’s been invited to speak on podcasts, at conferences, and in front of seasoned professionals. And he carries himself like he’s been doing it for years. He has emotional intelligence, self-awareness, and presence.

When I see him move like that, I know he might be the one who changes the generational trajectory of our family. All three of my children have that potential, but right now, in this moment in 2025, Dominic is showing it through action.

And I’m just proud to be his dad.

Here is his current portfolio website.

Anthony Alegrete and daughter Giana at a bat mitzvah (2025)

Giana – The Spark, the Spice, the Challenge

Giana is nothing like her brothers. She is sharper, quicker, more outspoken, more stubborn, and a hundred times spicier. If the boys were Disneyland, Giana would be the roller coaster in the middle of a thunderstorm. And I say that with love.

She gives everyone a hard time — me, her mom, her brothers, her teachers. She questions everything. She pushes back on anything that feels unfair. But mixed in with all that fire is a deep love. When she cares about you, she loves you with everything she has.

She is only twelve, but she is already ahead of her age. She is athletic, social, and sharp. She has a big group of friends and knows how to hold her own in any room. Confidence just pours out of her. If she ever decides to lock in and really apply herself, she could be unstoppable.

The thing about G is that she will fight you over the smallest things. What worked on the boys does not work on her. All I had to do with the boys is stare at them harshly and they’d get some act right in them. With her, she just laughs. If you try to discipline her with threats, she laughs. If you give her a lecture, she tunes out. She will stand firm on something completely unreasonable just to prove her point.

And she has completely mastered how to pimp me. She knows how to get what she wants out of her dad. The crazy thing is, I know exactly what she’s doing, and somehow I still let it happen. I do not know why. That is Giana. Clever, persistent, and impossible not to give in to at times.

She also has this pattern when it comes to effort. If something gets hard, she is quick to let go. We have to be more disciplined with her about sticking things out. But when she finally commits, she crushes it. She wins races. She takes first place in sports. She attacks it with everything she has, and the result is always top notch.

Then there is the softer side. There are nights where I am watching TV and she will walk in without saying a word, curl up next to me, and lay her head on my chest. In that moment, nothing else matters. That is the side of her that makes fatherhood special. Raising a daughter is different. It softens you in ways you do not expect.

She has been spoiled, no question about it. Not just by me, but by everyone in the family. She is the baby, and we are older parents now. Parenting in your forties is not the same as parenting in your twenties. When Nick was born, I was strict and full of energy. By the time G came around, I was more tired, more lenient, and more patient. Some of that is maturity. Some of it is just age. The boys laugh about it and say things like “dang Mom and Dad you’d never let me and Nicky do that.”

The digital world has made things even more complicated. Social media has her attention, and the influences are everywhere. She is growing up faster than I would like, and our job is to keep her grounded while still letting her shine.

What Giana has taught me most is patience. She showed me that not every child can be raised the same way. You cannot logic your way into her heart. You cannot overpower her into respect. You have to sit in her emotions and ride the wave with her. She made me understand that parenting has to be tailored to each child.

Even with all the challenges, she is my baby. She is my daughter. And even when she drives me crazy, I would not trade her for anything. She’s my gigi mamas beanzie bear!

No Manual, Just Me

I didn’t grow up with someone teaching me how to be a man or how to handle money. I didn’t learn how to be a father from my dad or from any of the men in my family. Not my uncles. Not my grandfather. All of them treated their children or their parents in ways that I knew early on I would never treat my own. And that realization shaped me. I never wanted to be like them in terms of how they were fathers to their children. I respected my dad in other areas, like intelligence and his ability to build things.

There was no blueprint. I wasn’t shown how to do this. Everything I’ve done as a father has been trial and error. A lot of error. But also a lot of trying. A lot of showing up and figuring it out along the way.

I didn’t get a playbook. No one sat me down and explained what it takes to be a real father. My own example growing up wasn’t strong. This article is not meant to be advice in the typical sense. It is simply me sharing what my experience has been like for the last twenty four years. If someone can find lessons in it, even better. If it makes someone reflect on their own journey, then it was worth writing.

I am not a professional father. I am just a man who became one and who has kept his children and his family together for a quarter of a century. That in itself is a big deal. Staying married to the mother of my children for over twenty five years is no small thing. It has not been easy. There have been ups. There have been downs. Heartbreaks. Mistakes. Missteps. Arguments. Moments where we could have walked away. But we stayed. We stayed strong for the kids and for each other.

That alone is rare today. Most of the people I know have multiple exes and complicated situations with their kids’ other parent. A lot of them barely even speak to each other without conflict. And I have to smile sometimes when those same people try to give me advice about family or fatherhood. It’s like an unhealthy person lecturing someone who is in shape about diet and exercise. Unless you’ve walked the road of staying committed for twenty five years, you can’t really speak on it.

That is why I take pride in what we have held together. Not because it was perfect, but because we never gave up on each other or on our family.

And because of that, I know we did something right. What I am most proud of is not perfection. It is consistency. It is getting back up when we fell. It is choosing to keep our family together through every season. That is the legacy that matters more than anything.

Nickalis, Dominic, Giana, three peas in a pod (2025)

The Hard Parts

One of the hardest parts of being a father is the weight you carry every day. It never leaves. It is A LOT of pressure. You wake up with it, you go to sleep with it, and sometimes it keeps you up at night. The responsibility to provide, to protect, and to give your kids and family a better life than you had is always there.

I grew up in apartments in neighborhoods surrounded by gangs, drugs, and dysfunction. It wasn’t the worst neighborhoods but they were still active. I made it my mission that my kids would never live that life. I wanted them in safe neighborhoods, with good schools, behind a fence instead of behind bars. I worked around the clock to make that vision real.

But when you’re grinding that hard, you miss things. I was not always there emotionally. Even when I was physically in the room, my mind was often somewhere else, focused on bills, deadlines, or just surviving the moment. My kids might have needed my presence, but too often I was thinking about how to keep the lights on or how to cover the rent, or even grow the empire when things were going good.

If I could do one thing differently, it would be to slow down and actually be more in the moment with them. To not let the mission blind me from the memories I could have been making.

You can’t exchange presence with presents.

The Regrets

There are things I carry with me. Real regrets.

I regret the times I was too physical with my boys. There were moments when my anger spoke louder than my love. At the time, I told myself it was discipline. I told myself it was teaching. But the truth is, I was hurting them. I made them fear me when what they really needed was to feel safe with me. Even though I know they love me, I also know I left scars. That is something I will always wish I could take back..

Verbal attacks. Hitting below the belt. Going too far. None of that works. All it does is chip away at their self-esteem. All it does is create distance. I regret the words just as much as the actions.

If I could offer one piece of advice to any father, it would be this: do not let your hands or your words become weapons. Do not attack your children’s character when they mess up. Find another way. Be firm, yes, but also be gentle. Correct them without breaking them. They will carry the memory of how you made them feel long after they forget the details of what they did wrong.

Even to this day as I write this, I make mistakes and slip up. I try my hardest to always rectify my errors.

The Growth

I’ve learned that emotional presence is just as important as physical presence. Providing a roof, food, clothes, and opportunities matters, but so does being emotionally available. So does being gentle. So does being the safe space. These are some of the biggest fatherhood lessons my kids have taught me.

I’m still learning this. Even with two grown sons and a pre-teen daughter, I’m still figuring it out. Every stage brings something new.

Giana taught me patience. Nick taught me what real kindness looks like. Dominic taught me that discipline pays off.

Fatherhood made me less selfish. It pulled me out of the “me first” mindset. It taught me to show up even when I didn’t feel like it. It pushed me to grow emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.

It also saved me. I was hustling in the streets, doing things I am not proud of, and getting locked up. I was never in a gang or claimed to be from the streets, but I did hustle. I made money by committing crimes, mostly through selling cannabis. I never believed it should have been a crime, but the law saw it differently. As I got older, I realized I could not keep doing those things and hurting my family by being absent.

The love I received from my kids, and the responsibility that came with having them, pulled me back before I lost myself completely.

I face my own challenges and demons on a daily basis, and I’ve had to learn how to deal with them while remembering that people rely on me. I have to be stoic. I have to get through it. I am no longer by myself, and because of that I’ve worked extra hard on this. But it is not easy. I was a kid when I started having kids. I had no real fatherly role models, and I had to figure it out on my own. I don’t claim to be a perfect dad, but smooth seas never made a skillful sailor.

Loriel Alegrete, the REAL rock of the family!

Pretending to Hold It Together

There have been many times where I had to pretend like everything was fine. That is part of being a dad. You do not let your kids see you fall apart. You stay strong for them, even when you are breaking on the inside.

I am an entrepreneur. Some days it is feast. Other days it is famine. There are nights when I am behind on bills, trying to figure it all out, stressed to my core, but I still walk into my daughter’s room, kiss her goodnight, and tell her everything is okay. In those moments, I know she needs her father to be steady. She does not need to carry the fear or the stress I feel.

We are open with our kids, but there is a line. They know we struggle. They pick up on it in little ways. But I never want them to carry the weight. That is not theirs to carry. That is mine. It is my job to shoulder it, even when it feels unbearable.

Dominic tries to pay for things now that he has money. He offers to cover bills or step in where he can. And while I admire him for that and love that he even thinks that way, I do not want him to feel like he has to carry us. That is not his role. I feel bad when he feels the need to step in financially. It is beautiful to see him step up, but I do not want him to do it out of worry that his parents may be struggling. It is a balance. His mother and I are thankful that he sees and acts, but I want him to know his job is to live his life, keep growing, and enjoy being a kid at heart while he can.

And it is not just Dominic. All three of my kids step up in different ways. Nick will handle picking Giana up from school if we need help. Giana will pitch in around the house. They understand what it means to be part of a family that works together. That is something we taught them by example. Teach your kids about the importance of family from a young age.

The truth is, if it were not for their mother, I could not pretend to hold anything together. She is the real rock of this family. She is the one who keeps us steady when I feel like I might break. I may put on the mask of strength, but she is the one holding the foundation together.

Putting on that mask is exhausting at times. There have been nights where I sat alone in the dark, wondering how I was going to make it all work. Nights when the numbers did not add up. Nights when doubt crept in heavily, but I still had to wake up the next morning and play the role of provider, protector, and steady hand.

I have learned that pretending to hold it together is not about lying to your kids. It is about protecting their innocence. They do not need to know every detail of every struggle. What they need to know is that they are safe, that they are loved, and that no matter what, their father will show up for them. That is what I try to give them, even in the hardest seasons.

I implore you fathers out there to keep a similar balance. It’s okay to feel, it’s okay to have emotions, but at the same time knowing when to present them and how you do.

Travel Is Part of the Journey

One thing I’ve always believed in is travel. Getting out of your city. Seeing the world. Learning new cultures. Expanding your mind.

I’ve written about Israel and Pakistan, and I will continue to write about the places I go. But more than anything, I want my kids to travel. To see life through different eyes. To not be boxed into one worldview. That is one of the best things I can teach them. That there is more out there. That they should go find it.

It is not just about me traveling, it is about taking them with me. Take your kids outside the comforts of your home city. Show them the world. Put them in new places, new environments, new cultures. Take them on adventures that they will never forget. They will thank you for it later. It will open their minds, culture them, and teach them lessons no classroom ever could.

This December, Dominic and I are going to Peru for a leadership retreat. I already know it will be one of those moments that stays with both of us forever. It is not just a trip, it is a shared experience that will shape us in ways we may not even realize yet.

Travel humbles you. It teaches you. And it makes you better. That’s part of fatherhood too, showing your kids the world beyond their front door. These are the kinds of fatherhood lessons I want them to carry for the rest of their lives.

Generations of Alegrete's (2015)

The Legacy

If I had to sum up my experience as a father, I would say this: being a father is the greatest experience you can have as a human being. It gives you love, comfort, family, discipline, and every positive characteristic you can imagine.

I have failed in many ways. I continue to learn. God teaches me new lessons every single day. I am open to those lessons, and I am deeply thankful that I was blessed with three amazing children I do not deserve.

The legacy I want to leave is simple. I want my kids to make the world better than they found it. I want them to be good people. I want them to help others. I want them to build wealth not just for themselves but for their families. I want them to carry our name with strength and pride.

We started with nothing, and together we created something meaningful. That is the legacy I hope to leave behind.