Written by Sunayana Roy
At my check-up last week, the gynaecologist stressed the importance of communicating to my family the impact perimenopause has been having on me. I heard her out, all the while thinking that of all the things I needed to be told, this wasn’t it. You see, since I have to deal with my fatigue, mood swings, inexplicable pains, hot flashes, you name it, I make sure my boys know exactly what’s going on. It started out with a family meeting earlier this year: I was grimly determined to no longer deal with this ageing nonsense by myself; I had realised it was important for them to know that their mother was struggling.
The unexpected, unintended consequence was this: As I walked my little family through the medical aspect of perimenopause, I quietly managed to let go of a lot of my own little anxieties and need to control this considerably messy part of my life. If I could tell my boys about hot flashes, I could stop being embarrassed about having them in the first place.
That’s parenting, at least for me. I learn as much as I teach.
When I had my first baby, a boy, I was grimly determined to bring up a boy who would be a man who wouldn’t be an utter disgrace to me, his mother. I took him everywhere, exposed him to books, art, theatre, sports. I taught him to swim, to shoot, to look after fishes and little babies.
Now that he’s an adult, I look back on the last two decades of our life together, and I realise, while he certainly benefited from all those experiences, the only thing he actually needed from me was to be seen for the person he is, good and bad. What he needed from me was faith. He needed a mother who saw his gentle side and let him be whatever he needed to be, when he needed it. His little brother, born eight years later, was welcomed into the world by a mother who had already learned to sit back and observe, to support more than she led.
In our home, and across India, the blueprint for boyhood is being radically redrawn. My sons, part of Gen Z and Gen Alpha, are coming of age in a world vastly different from my own. For example, this generation is dealing with gender roles in a way that is uniquely theirs. These children are the first generation to entirely grow up with the internet, on the internet, and it shows.
On one hand, this provides unprecedented access to positive communities and information that can affirm my boys’ unique interests. On the other, it exposes them to the same perils it always has: Toxic influencers, hyper-violent content, and corrosive online subcultures that prey on insecurity and peddle a regressive, often aggressive, form of masculinity. The Indian “manosphere” is notorious around the globe for promoting regressive thoughts and a violent, controlling view towards women and relationships.
In our home, this has led to many, many conversations with both the teen and the younger one about what respect and kindness look like in the classroom, on public transport, and within the family, too. It has led to shocking revelations about what these kids find entertaining as well as pleasant surprises about what they automatically stand up against.
Trying to bring up digitally informed boys (that is, young men who don’t spend their days hating women online) feels like an uphill battle when multiple algorithms work against me every single day. Chillingly, the 11-year-old gets the worst content via suggestions on his YouTube, despite our best efforts to supervise and control what crosses his path. The only real power left in my hands is to limit his time online altogether and keep encouraging him to talk about what he’s consuming. More support than leading. Keeping them entirely offline is not an option. The digital world is a part of their reality, and our job is to help them navigate it with ethics and critical thinking intact.
Perhaps the most hopeful development is watching this generation of boys show a heightened awareness of social justice, consent and equality. Conversations about respecting boundaries, championing inclusivity and calling out bullying are starting earlier and are more explicit than anything my brother and I got growing up. I also have to be mindful of my own speech and thoughts. To teach them to think of women as their equals, I had to first change how I view my own contribution to our household. I had to view myself as an equal contributor to the family if I wanted my sons to one day view their partners as equals.
I learn as much as I teach.
Raising boys in this new era is not about stripping away their spirit or energy. It is about channelling it constructively. It is about replacing the rigid, brittle model of traditional masculinity with one that is flexible, compassionate, and strong in a multitude of ways. The task for today’s caregivers is to be co-navigators, offering a steady hand and an open mind as we guide these young boys toward a future where they can be not just successful men, but good ones.
The writer works in marketing and communication, and lives in Bengaluru with her two sons
