For a boy, he cried too much.
I wasn’t even sure what had upset my son. I was just convinced that it was my job to toughen up this beautiful boy for a world that didn’t treat sensitive men kindly.
“You can’t just cry all the time,” I growled despairingly. My six-year-old nodded and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “If someone’s mean to you, just be meaner back.”
Shorts
I used to believe my sons needed preparing for a brutal world. Now I believe they need something much more radical: permission to be fully human. The moment I stopped trying to toughen them up and started teaching them how to care, my anxiety about the men they might become began to fade.
