I always imagined I would have daughters. While I won’t say I pictured myself surrounded by all things pink and sparkly, I did look forward to raising strong, empowered girls who would carry on the legacy of a fiercely feminist mother, perhaps even leaving me in their dust someday. But then life took a turn, and I found myself raising boys. And let me tell you, I am that mom of boys.
You know the type, right? (Don’t pretend you’re not rolling your eyes from your couch.) I’m the mom who insists that if they mention a woman over 18, they should use the term “woman.” I seize every opportunity to highlight how we use language differently when talking about boys and girls. Sure, I might take it a bit too far at times, but it’s important to me.
I’m the one who lectures them—until I get tired of hearing my own voice—about respecting boundaries when someone says, “I don’t like that,” or “Please stop touching me,” even if my youngest is just 8 and has no interest in those matters yet. But I keep reminding him, “Look at me when I’m talking to you. This is crucial. If someone says don’t touch them, you stop immediately.”
I’m that parent who constantly celebrates the achievements of girls and women. I teach my sons to hold doors open for everyone, not just for girls—because it’s not about being a gentleman; it’s about being respectful. I remind them that while boys and girls may have differences, neither is superior to the other.
I’m the mom who points out stereotypes, the one who won’t allow my kids to play video games that objectify women. I’ve made sure they understand what a period is, what tampons are for, and where babies come from. I’m the one who introduced them to the term “vagina.” When the time is right, I’ll explain that yes, women enjoy sex because it’s pleasurable.
I’m the enthusiastic mom who sat down with my second grader to discuss how to treat girls with respect, and what to do if he doesn’t want to dance with someone. I’ve told him that it’s not acceptable to make fun of or disrespect anyone, regardless of his feelings. If I ever find out they’re teasing a girl about her looks or using derogatory language, they know I’ll be there to set them straight. I’m the one who constantly emphasizes that saying “crying like a girl” is insulting, unfair, and just plain wrong.
I’m that mom who doesn’t excuse rough behavior just because my kids are boys. I’m the one who brings up dinner table discussions about women’s underrepresentation and how history often tells one side of the story. Yes, I’m the mom quizzing them on facts about women and voting rights.
I’m the one who will have serious conversations about sex and consent, reinforcing that if they’re ever in doubt, the answer is no. I’m the one who passionately discusses the importance of equality and valuing people for who they are, not their gender.
My priority is not to raise gentlemen; your daughters deserve boys and men who view them as equals. I’m that mom who continually highlights that girls can do anything boys can do, and boys can do anything girls can do—well, except for the birthing part.
Yes, I’m that mom. I know I may come across as overbearing or repetitive, but it’s worth it if it means raising boys who see your daughters as equals and partners. I’m willing to take the heat, to endure eye rolls and frustrated sighs if it makes a difference.
In conclusion, I’m the mom dedicated to raising boys who strive to make the world a fairer place for everyone.
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