There is a small but bold postcard on our stairs that I must have placed there when my eldest son, now 11, was about 5. It states that ‘real men are feminists’.

As a mother of boys, I take the transmission of this very seriously. Conversations started small and were uncomplicated: “if you think that boys and girls should be paid the same for doing the same job, then you’re a feminist”, (response to which, incidentally, was “why wouldn’t they be?” – why indeed), but the rewards were great.

My heart rejoiced when one of my boys reported matter-of-factly that he was able to explain what a feminist is when they were being taught about suffragettes at school.

We’ve always taken the relatively simple steps of encouraging our boys to think about gender, use correct names for genitalia, and challenge roles and stereotypes in our home.

And now, seeing my eldest in a single-sex secondary school, diving off the edge of the cliff of his childhood into the unchartered waters of adolescence, I realise that explaining the birds and bees was a piece of cake compared to the task of readying my boys for safe, healthy, fulfilling relationships.

These days, more than ever, this undertaking feels perplexing, intricate and complex. 

Of course, adolescence has never been straightforward. It’s a complex time in and of itself: to break away somewhat from your family of origin, find your friends, your people (the family of your choosing), forge your identity and succeed in academic or other endeavours all within a constantly changing body.

These days, there are the added pressures of navigating social media, FOMO, trolling, online bullying, shame-inducing and ostracization.

I’m only too aware of such horrors as a clinician who listens to scores of teenage clients regaling the horrors of their “ordinary” existence on a day-to-day basis. None, though, compared to the deeply traumatic emotional, physical and sexual experiences that have now come to light. 

As therapists, parents, adults, school communities and, I hope as a society, we are digesting the testimonies of (mainly, but not exclusively,) women who have been given a voice through Soma Sara’s Everyone’s Invited website.

Whilst some say that the normalisation of sexual violence has long been the status quo, this powerful collective naming and shaming means that we may finally bear witness to a paradigm shift in our culture. We are being presented with the opportunity to revise what is acceptable and to eradicate the bravado, language and secrecy that has gone before. 

A starting point for many will be to think carefully about important conversations that must be had with children in order to prepare them to navigate through adolescence safely – for their own sake, as well as for the sake of those they meet along the way. 

A starting point for many will be to think carefully about important conversations that must be had with children in order to prepare them to navigate through adolescence safely – for their own sake, as well as for the sake of those they meet along the way. 

I am apprehensive. I search for the right words. Following the murder of Sarah Everard, I have had to have difficult conversations around ‘predators’ and ‘rapists’ and what these words mean, literally and otherwise.

I feel a burden of responsibility to tread the line carefully, to equip my boys and help them understand what is normal and natural, what can be enjoyed and celebrated and where the occasionally subtle societal lines of acceptability lie. 

I consider this ever so carefully: what will be enough but not overwhelming and fear-inducing? My heart broke to hear of younger children being accosted outside a particular school that was repeatedly named in the most recent scandal, even though these children were too young for the reported behaviour to have had any connection to them.

This too is traumatic, with its own consequences, and we must all show caution and sensitivity as we tread the lines.

I cannot close without saying that we crucially need to consider the influence of pornography. The average age of accessing porn is apparently 11. This means that on average half of those who have seen disturbing sexual images online will have been significantly younger than this.

I cannot close without saying that we crucially need to consider the influence of pornography. The average age of accessing porn is apparently 11. This means that on average half of those who have seen disturbing sexual images online will have been significantly younger than this.

As a therapist, I have now seen my fair share of 9, 10 and 11-year-olds who have struggled after viewing porn, either as a consequence of curiosity or accident.

With its easy accessibility, it is ever more crucial that we take the step of explaining to the next generation – before they reach their own conclusions – that what they see online is not the “norm”. 

What they are seeing belongs behind a paywall, available only to those who have the cognitive maturity to recognise that these are actors being paid to have sex, and far from the loving and emotionally nurturing relationships to which our children should aspire.

Please contact us if you feel that you or your children would benefit from talking to someone about the topics discussed in this piece.

Dr Marielle Quint, Chartered Clinical Psychologist at The Soke

Marielle is a Chartered Clinical Psychologist with an established career supporting children, families and adults, and a particular emphasis on supporting new parents navigate the transition to parenthood.

She is an integrative therapist using approaches such as CBT, Systemic and Psychodynamic thinking as well as providing supervision, workshops, training and consultation to individuals and organisations.

https://www.thesoke.uk/clinical-team/drmariellequint
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Everyone’s just posturing

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Remembering that men are victims too