Why Not Just Use Reddit?

You're probably already thinking it. Why build a community for dads when Reddit exists? There's r/daddit. There's r/NewDads. Thousands of dads helping each other every day. Real conversations. Real support.

Those places aren't broken. I'm not here to pretend they are. Dads are showing up for each other in those communities. That's a good thing.

But Reddit is Reddit. And there are patterns baked into how it works that are great for some things and get in the way of others.

Everything Disappears

This is just how Reddit works. You post something. People respond. Maybe it gets traction, maybe it doesn't. Either way, three days later it's gone. Buried under new posts. The algorithm moved on.

That's fine for memes. It's fine for hot takes. But what about the dad who shared how he handled his son's first panic attack? What about the guy who figured out how to co-parent with his ex after years of fighting?

That wisdom is in there somewhere. Good luck finding it.

I wanted a place where the lessons stayed. Where a dad could share what he learned, and it would actually stick around for the next guy who needs it.

Karma Changes How People Show Up

Reddit's voting system is supposed to surface the best stuff. But it also rewards performance. The clever comment wins. The vulnerable one gets ignored. And sometimes the judgment comes fast.

I've seen dads ask genuine questions and get torn apart for not knowing something they were supposed to know. Guy's at his breaking point, finally asks for help, and some stranger decides that's the moment to score points.

That's not support. That's a spectator sport.

I wanted no downvotes. No karma. No leaderboard. Just dads helping dads without the pressure to be clever or right.

You Don't Know Who You're Talking To

On Reddit, everyone's a username. That's the point. Anonymity lets people be honest.
But it also means you have no idea who's giving you advice. Is this guy a first-time dad or a father of five? Is he married, divorced, co-parenting? Did he actually go through what you're going through, or is he just theorizing?

When someone shares advice about handling a toddler meltdown, it hits different if you know he's been doing this for ten years. When someone responds to your post about marriage struggles, context matters.

I wanted a place where you could be known. Where your profile tells your story. Where the dads helping you aren't just anonymous usernames.

What I'm Trying to Build

Pophood isn't trying to replace Reddit. It's trying to be something different.

A place where your stories don't disappear. Where you can ask for help in The Trenches and turn that experience into a Story that helps someone else later. Where there's no karma, no downvotes, no performance. And where dads can actually be known.

Reddit does what Reddit does. I wanted something else.