In the Netflix series Adolescence, there’s a powerful moment when Jamie, a 13-year-old schoolboy accused of a devastating crime, chooses his father—not his mother—as his appropriate adult in the police interview. It’s a detail that, while fictional, resonates deeply with many parents watching.
We could try to guess why he made that choice. But instead of speculating, I want to offer something else: an invitation.
An invitation to reflect on what this moment might mirror back to us—about our children, our parenting, and the quiet emotional world we often overlook.
Because sometimes, even the most emotionally present, loving parent gets surprised. And it’s not because they’ve done something wrong. It’s because children don’t always speak with words.
The Emotional Silence That Lives Beneath the Surface
Adolescents—especially boys—often express their emotions in subtle, indirect ways. Through choices. Through what they don’t say. Through distance, or even confusion. If we want to understand them, we need to learn how to listen—not just with our ears, but with presence. Deep, non-judgmental presence.
And presence means looking without filters.
Filters like fear (“What if they’re not okay?”), guilt (“Is this my fault?”), or expectations (“I thought they’d turn out differently.”).
When we remove those filters, we begin to see them more clearly. Not just the child in front of us—but the human being becoming themselves, in a world that sometimes can feel overwhelming, complicated, and often contradictory.
Adolescence: That Wild Space Between What Was and What’s Becoming
The adolescent phase is a paradox.
They are not quite the child they were, but not yet the adult they’re becoming.
Their brains are changing. Hormones are in motion. Identity is being explored and rewritten.
But let’s not forget: this exploration doesn’t start from scratch.
It’s shaped by everything we’ve poured into them—the love, the values, the unspoken fears, and even our own unhealed parts. And whether we like it or not, our children’s inner worlds are woven from more than just our words. They’re made from our emotional availability, our presence, and our ability to let them be who they are—not just who we hoped they’d be.
Mum and Dad, Masculine and Feminine: The Dance of Energies
Let me be clear: I speak in general terms here, based on common dynamics seen across generations. I fully acknowledge and celebrate the diversity of modern families—single parents, same-gender parents, blended families, adoptive families. Every child’s reality is different, and every parent brings something unique and valuable.
But for the sake of this reflection, let’s explore the traditional dynamic many children still grow up with:
- A mother figure who often encourages emotional openness, vulnerability, and connection.
- A father figure raised in a generation where emotional restraint was more common. One who may have learned that strength meant stoicism, and that discipline meant love.
So when a child feels weak, sad, or heartbroken, they might instinctively turn to the parent who gives them permission to be soft.
But when they feel they must be strong, when they feel they need to hold it together or prove something, they may look for the parent who embodies that kind of strength.
“Maybe Jamie wasn’t turning away from his mum. Maybe he was turning toward something he needed to find in his dad.”
This is not about who’s better. It’s about what energy the child needs in a given moment. And that can shift over time.
The Protective Love Boys Feel Toward Their Mothers
There’s also something else we don’t talk about enough.
Boys—especially those who are emotionally close to their mothers—often carry a sense of protection toward them. They may feel that showing their worst, their darkest, or their pain might hurt her. And that’s unbearable.
Because often, a mother is not just “Mum.” She’s the guardian of the child’s soul. Their emotional mirror. Their anchor.
So in moments of shame, fear, or identity crisis, some boys instinctively push their mothers away—not from rejection, but from a deep, complicated love.
The Unspoken Role of Fathers
Even if the relationship has been strained, boys often look to their fathers as a kind of blueprint. A mirror. A reference point.
They have internal questions, doubts, they want to know ¨How would he react if this were him?¨, ¨Will he like me as I am?¨, ¨Can he teach me how to stand in this storm?…
Sometimes, they choose their dads because they’re hoping to see in them a way through the mess. They want a masculine energy that doesn’t reject, doesn’t shame, and doesn’t crumble. Even if it’s not perfect.
Children Need Both Energies—Like Two Ends of a Battery
Let’s use a metaphor I love: a battery.
One side is positive. One side is negative. Neither is better. Both are necessary for the current to flow.
Children need both energies—warmth and structure, softness and direction, reflection and action. And they need us, as parents or caregivers, to be emotionally healthy enough to embody both, in our own unique way.
That doesn’t mean being perfect. It means being present.
And when we can’t be both at once, it means allowing and respecting the other parent—or caregiver—to offer what we can’t in that moment.
“Even if they seem closer to one parent, they need both.”
Final Thought: When a Child Surprises You, Pause. Don’t Panic.
Jamie’s choice might have surprised his mother. It might surprise us, too.
But instead of rushing to analyse it or correct it, we can ask ourselves:
- What am I seeing here?
- What energy is he asking for?
- Am I hearing the silence behind their words?
And most importantly:
Can I love them through this without needing to be chosen?
Because in the end, our role is not to be their only source. It’s to be a safe one. One they can come back to—no matter who they leaned on in a given moment.
That is presence. That is love. That is parenting in its most powerful form.
P.S. To the boys reading this:
If you’re reading this and something inside you feels seen, I want you to know something very important:
You don’t have to have all the answers.
You don’t always have to be strong.
You don’t have to choose between being sensitive and being brave—you can be both. In fact, being both is what makes you truly powerful.
If you’ve ever felt torn, confused, overwhelmed, or scared… that doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.
And if you’ve ever made a choice that surprised others—even your parents—it doesn’t mean you’re wrong. It just means something inside you was asking for something different in that moment.
Please don’t be afraid to speak.
And if you don’t have the words yet, that’s okay too.
Just know: there are adults—maybe even the ones raising you—who love you deeply and want to understand, not judge. They’re learning too. You’re all growing together.
You’re not alone.
You matter.
Exactly as you are.
Article used for The Tab Magazine