This is How I’m Raising My Son
We're reinventing fulfilling masculinity in this house
How to Build a Life is a newsletter for people bang in the thick of life’s mess and mayhem, who are still trying to find the magic. It’s written by me, Laura Jane Williams, author of 12 (!) books. I’m almost 40, a solo parent by choice, decorate my house like a tart’s boudoir, and lift very heavy weights. Those four things are my entire personality.
My latest rom-com is Enemies to Lovers, and I am the author of teen series Taylor Blake is a Legend too.
My version of feminism involves raising my son to to be proud of who he is so that he never feels threatened enough to keep somebody else small. I do not need to minimize him as a boy in order to see girls thrive. He deserves thoughtful space in this world. I joke about a lot of things, but raising a son in a way that helps him find fulfilling masculinity is not funny to me. Literally, the stats back it up that it’s life and death. Teenage girls who struggle with self-worth self-harm, but the data also shows that teenage boys with the same mental health issues kill themselves. Heavy start to this piece? Yeah. Sorry.
So what are some things I think are important in raising my son? Here we go…
The menstrual cycle. My kid gives me about *this much* personal space. That means I haven’t pooped in peace for years. It also means he sees blood in my pants every month. Right from the start I said, this is one of the ways you can check if a woman’s body is working properly. It’s called a period. Most women get periods every month if there isn’t a baby in their tummy. It doesn’t hurt. As he’s gotten older, I’ve let him mess about with a tampon and explained how it works – though let the record show I’ve drawn the line at actually demonstrating insertion. Sometimes, when it’s day 28 of my cycle and I could blow at any minute, we do a little joke. I say, Babe, how much patience do I normally have? He says, This much! and holds his arms open as wide as they go. Then I say, And if my period is going to come tomorrow, how much patience does that mean I have now? And then he holds his fingers really close together and says, This much! Does that mean I love you less, just because today I have less patience? I ask. No, he says. But would you like a hug? Bonus effect of teaching him about periods: he can pick out a sanitary pad from the vanity for me without batting an eyelid. People bleed! My kid isn’t taught to shy away from this.
Hitting. If my son physically lashes out at me, as kids do, I do not use a soft, gentle voice to calmly remind him to use kind hands please. I wallop him back. I (lightly! Come on!!) hit him and I say firmly, ‘I do not deserve to be hit. If you hurt me, I will defend myself’. Has the headteacher at school suggested this is unhelpful for classroom conflict? Yes. Do I care? No. I have heard my kid say to somebody hurting him, more than once, that he does not deserve to be hit, and that if you hurt him he will defend himself. Kids copy everything, and on this count I consider it a win. I think it’s important to hear a person articulate physical boundaries and demand respect until it is given. You cannot hurt others, nut also - bou cannot be hurt either. It’s okay to be aggressive about that.