Prince William’s admission that he would need his wife’s help to talk to his daughter about periods has laid bare a much broader societal issue: the assumption that conversations about puberty are a mother’s job, not a father’s. Speaking at the SXSW Festival in Austin, Texas, during a panel titled “Chatting with Change: The Future of Menstrual Equity,” the Prince was asked by period equity activist Vivi Lin whether he was ready to discuss periods with Princess Charlotte. He replied that the topic was “not familiar” to him, acknowledged it was a conversation he would need to have in the future, and said he would try to do so “with the help of his wife.” The exchange, which took place at a festival otherwise packed with discussions on health and technology, has been interpreted in sharply differing ways: some see a relatable admission of a common parental challenge; others argue it reinforces traditional gender roles in childcare.
Metro columnist and father-of-two Will Reid, who lives in a two-dad household with his nurse partner, says he could relate to the prince’s discomfort — because men are not, after all, natural experts on menstrual health. But he argues that opting out of the conversation is not an option. “For my partner and I, opting out of conversations around puberty and periods has never been an option,” he writes. “I’ve been conscious that I need to — and want to — be involved too.” Reid describes taking practical steps: learning alongside his daughter through age-appropriate books, stocking the bathroom cupboard and day bags with period products long before they are needed, and leaning on female friends who offered to help discuss the emotional side of periods. He acknowledges his daughter may eventually prefer trusted female role models, but insists the point is to create an environment where she feels she can go to either parent.
Why fathers must be present, not experts
Florence Igboayaka, CEO of the charity The Period Place, which works to dispel period stigma and provide education, insists that fathers have a vital role that goes far beyond being an emergency backup. “For generations, periods have been seen as ‘women’s business’,” she says. “But supporting someone through puberty should not be left solely to mothers. Fathers, stepfathers, grandfathers, foster carers, and male guardians all have a role to play. When fathers show up, listen, learn, and engage, girls feel supported, understood, and confident. That support can have a lasting impact on their mental wellbeing, self-esteem, and relationship with their own bodies.” Her message to fathers is blunt: “Your daughter does not need you to be an expert. She needs you to be present.” The Period Place runs a programme called the Dad & Daughter Daycation, specifically designed to help fathers understand menstrual health and build stronger relationships with their daughters. Igboayaka says she has spoken to many fathers who genuinely want to help but worry about saying the wrong thing. “Some are single dads. Some are widowed. Some are raising daughters by themselves. Others simply don’t have women around them they can turn to for advice. What they all have in common is that they care deeply and want to get it right.”
Igboayaka advises fathers to start with the basics: learn the menstrual cycle, understand that periods involve cramps, fatigue, mood changes and emotional challenges, and familiarise themselves with the range of period products — from pads and tampons to menstrual cups and period underwear. Crucially, she says, a father should be confident enough to buy period products in a shop without embarrassment. “Most importantly, create an environment where your daughter knows she can come to you with questions. A simple ‘How are you feeling?’ can make a huge difference.”
Other fathers on stepping up — and the challenges
Tom, 40, a dad-of-two from Lichfield, says he has already discussed periods with his older son but accepts it is now a duty he cannot avoid with his daughter as she approaches puberty. “I think it’s a duty of being a dad now to talk to daughters about periods, puberty and pregnancy — things that previous generations would have shied away from,” he says. He admits he lacks confidence and cannot learn from his own father, because “it didn’t happen”. Like Prince William, Tom says he will “probably lean quite heavily” on his wife, but he does not see that as an excuse to withdraw. “I think it’s a lazy excuse to say that my daughter will automatically go to my wife, and therefore I should be devolved of responsibility. It’s something I need to be involved in, because it’s so central to her life. It would be negligent of me to not include myself in that.” He acknowledges the risk of making his daughter uncomfortable, but says he wants to “buck that trend” of periods being treated as a women’s issue kept among women and girls. “I want to be another adult she can lean on.”
The wider context of period stigma in the UK makes this conversation all the more pressing. Period poverty — where individuals cannot afford or access menstrual products — remains a significant issue, leading the government to mandate free period products in schools and colleges. Charities such as The Period Place and Bloody Good Period continue to run educational programmes and distribute supplies. Despite progress, menstrual stigma persists, affecting mental health and well-being. Public health campaigns are increasingly targeting both young people and parents, but the quality of menstrual health education in UK schools varies, and there is ongoing debate about how comprehensive it should be.
The “period positivity” movement has grown globally, encouraging open discussion and challenging the shame associated with menstruation. Yet as the reaction to Prince William’s comments shows — with female colleagues at Metro HQ responding with “raised eyebrows and sighs” and comments such as “Do better” and “Leaving childcare up to the woman… again” — the expectation that mothers will handle these conversations remains deeply entrenched. For fathers in two-dad households, or those raising daughters alone, that default simply does not exist. But as Igboayaka argues, even where a mother is present, the father’s involvement is not a nice-to-have — it is crucial to a daughter’s confidence and sense of being supported.
Reid, the columnist, sums it up not as a call to “do better” in a scolding sense, but as an invitation to be more present than many men were raised to be. “Even small shifts in that direction matter,” he writes. For Tom, the Lichfield dad, the motivation is straightforward: “She’s going to go through something massive, and I need to be part of that.”