What About Our Boys?

The same moment repeats itself every week on my office couch: a boy sits across from me, believing he is the only one who deeply desires a friendship that isn’t just based on video games or superficial topics of conversation. He is worried he is weird or that something is wrong with them because he wants something deeper.

So I lean in and give him the truth.

I tell him about all the other boys who have sat on the very same couch, asking for the very same thing.

In that moment, something shifts in his posture, his eyes; I witness hope and reassurance. I can almost hear his heart call out to me: you mean there are others like me out there? Sometimes even admits, “I wish I could meet them.”

I am pretty sure you’ve watched this very situation play out in your own home. Your son comes home from school, barely says more than a grunt when asked how his day was. Later, he is animated and yelling while playing video games with friends. But there are many moments when you notice him pulling deeper and deeper into himself.

He seems so disconnected.

You find yourself wondering why he feels so lonely when he is always online talking to so many people. You know how wonderful he is, so sweet, so smart, so inquisitive and innocent in some of his questions. Surely somebody must want a friend like that?

Then comes the harder question: What are you supposed to do?

Boys want peers desperately during adolescence. The need for belonging is intensified while, at the same time, many messages about what belonging means start to hit these boys at a very vulnerable time in their lives. They are caught in this difficult place of wanting to be accepted, but fearful of showing exactly who they are. Your son is longing for connection even if he does not know how to ask for it. Many boys have strong feelings, but somewhere along the way they stop believing they are supposed to talk about them. In the book Talk To Your Boys, 18-year-old Ty was asked whether he ever had emotions he wished he could talk to other guys about, and he said:

“I definitely would prefer to be able to share my feelings with my peers, but I just feel like everyone is struggling in their own way, and it’s not my decision to burden someone with my emotions while they’re still working on themselves.”

In other words, he wants emotional intimacy, but he also believes his emotions are a burden. That is the tension so many boys are carrying. We are raising more emotionally aware boys than generations before them, but awareness does not always mean they feel safe enough to share what is happening inside. There is still a scary line that they are afraid to cross: the fear of being judged, rejected, seen as weak, or becoming too much for someone else. And yet, these hearts are calling out to us to prove to them that they are allowed to have connection. We need them to know that wanting these deep heart-centered connections with other boys is not strange or something they need to outgrow. It’s part of being human.

We sometimes misinterpret what our boys are telling us.

We think that their protection is rejection.

Your gut tells you when something is off. You can see when the friend group is pushing your son out. You know he is hurt, but you don’t know how to get him to open up about how it’s affecting him. So you wait for him to come to you. But often he doesn’t.

You interpret silence as he doesn’t want to talk. You see him pulling away and assume he no longer needs you. misunderstand that gaming means he only cares about screens. You mistake independence for emotional self-sufficiency. At the same time, you may be unconsciously expecting your son to toughen up while simultaneously worrying that he isn’t opening up. So I want to ask you a bigger question:

What does it mean to you to raise your son to become a man?

If being a man means they are emotionally aware, tender, confident, strong, sweet, able to read the room, a protector and provider, and capable of deeply loving and caring for the people who give his life meaning and purpose? Then maybe strength and tenderness were never opposite in the first place.

What we miss when we misinterpret our boys’ actions is that there is still tenderness waiting just below the surface. We can also underestimate the influence we have over our sons’ developing identities. Because if parents, teachers, mentors, and coaches are not a part of the conversations, somebody else will be.

When we back away, other voices move in.

So it is worth asking: Who is your son listening to? What are the messages that he is beginning to believe? Do those messages align with your family values, or are they shaping him in ways you do not want? That tenderness in our boys does not simply disappear. It needs relationship, guidance and a place to feel safe. Without that support, boys can become hardened and shut down, or shape themselves around whatever version of masculinity seems most available to them.

And that is the real cost: not that our sons become different from us, but that we may lose the opportunity to help them become themselves fully.

Parents matter enormously, and it is important to keep leaning into that connection, even if you are met with a prickly porcupine.

Don’t force him open.

Lean in, be curious, keep inviting.

Your son is in the process of becoming, and there is a whole world taking shape inside of him. Remind him of the values that matter in your family. Notice and appreciate the beauty and awe you see in them. When we reflect those qualities back to our boys, we help them recognize that these parts of themselves are worth holding onto nd brining into the world. Keep seeking his sweetness even when it’s hard to find. Keep offering the invitations to connect, even when the answer is no. Because sometimes, the asking is the gift in itself. Your effort matters with our boys. It tells them, I still see you. I still want to know you. I am still here. And as he grows, learn to recognize that connection may start to look different. The relationship is not disappearing; it’s changing shape.

Boys want connection, guidance, and even when they don’t always show it clearly, they want to know they can turn to their parents. They are looking for role models and challenging, testing and shape their developing values. They want to know who they can become.

Which means you are a contender.

You matter more than you know.

You hold the power to remind this new version of your son that he doesn’t have to abandon who he is in order to grow into the man he thinks he needs to be. That little boy who once reached for you has not disappeared; his way of reaching for you has. He is becoming. So stay close enough to meet this young man. And if you want five practical ways to stay connected and support your son in his becoming, I have included them below: