My 13-year-old son, Max, glanced over at me from the passenger seat, an eager look on his face. “Hey, Mom, do you have any plans for next Friday night?”
I took a moment to observe him—his youthful features, complete with the awkwardness of adolescence, filled with braces shining in the sunlight. It felt like only yesterday he was a tiny infant nestled in a car seat behind me. Now, his cherubic cheeks had transformed into defined cheekbones, and his once sweet baby scent had been replaced by the distinct aroma of a tween who occasionally forgets to wash.
“Not much, I believe. Why? Do you have something in mind?”
He turned his gaze out the window, then back to me, inhaling deeply. “Well, there’s this girl I like. I’m thinking about asking her out.”
In that instant, I recognized that my little boy was growing up.
I had anticipated this moment. I knew eventually he would develop feelings for someone beyond just his sister’s friends, and the days of playing soccer with neighborhood girls would soon be overshadowed by the allure of sharing popcorn in a dimly lit theater. I understood that I would eventually need to guide him through the often tumultuous waters of teenage romance.
That moment had arrived, and he was ready to pursue his feelings, eager to experience the excitement of young love. As much as I wished to freeze time, I realized it was vital to support him as he embarked on this journey. Dating can be challenging, particularly when one is inexperienced. I remembered how his father had courted me with kindness, and I wanted to ensure Max learned those same values. At the very least, he needed to show up with flowers.
Despite still envisioning him in his footie pajamas, clutching a toy train, I agreed that he could ask this special girl to the school Valentine’s Day celebration. The joy that spread across his face filled me with both happiness and a tinge of nostalgia for the moments that were slipping away.
When he mentioned, “Oh, and if we go for ice cream after, could you sit at a different table so we can, you know, talk?” I resisted the urge to feel offended.
As the date approached, we discussed essential dating etiquette. I emphasized that he should ask her out face-to-face, not through a text. We practiced a firm handshake for greeting her father, and discussed how to respectfully address her mother when picking her up. With each piece of advice, I sought to instill the importance of respect and kindness.
On the night of the date, I anticipated feeling sad as my son prepared to spend his first Friday night with a girl who wasn’t me. I envisioned tears welling up as I watched him meticulously comb his hair and catch a whiff of the cologne he had borrowed from his dad. Yet, instead of sadness, I found myself smiling as I observed the excitement radiating from him.
When he came downstairs in neatly pressed khakis and a button-down shirt, I realized my little boy had transformed. I didn’t shed a tear as I had expected. I had embraced my role as a parent to a tween, knowing this was just the beginning of many new experiences. He would chase his aspirations and follow his heart, but a part of me would always be with him in that journey.
As I handed him a few extra dollars and adjusted his collar, he hugged me tightly and said, “Thanks for letting me go.” That’s when I felt the tears threaten to spill—not from sadness, but from joy. I was delighted that my son had found someone who made him feel special. All along, I had been preparing him to spread his wings, and that night, I was ready to let him soar a little higher.
While I celebrated his first real date, I still reserve the right to go into protective mode if a girl ever breaks his heart.