I raised my 2 sons to talk about their feelings. It's made me more emotionally aware, too.
Early on in parenthood, I decided I would raise my two sons to talk about their feelings.
I want them to know that it's not a weakness to be vulnerable.
Parenting this way has changed how I handle my emotions, too.
As a single mother of two boys, now 12 and 17, I made an early, intentional choice: I would raise them to talk about their feelings. I wanted them to cry without shame, name their emotions, and understand that vulnerability wasn't a weakness, but a form of strength.
That choice shaped every part of our lives, and emotional openness has always been the norm in our home. From a young age, I encouraged my sons to speak up. We have informal family check-ins where they're free to talk about anything like school stress, friendships, racism, or just the weight of the world. When upsetting events happen, especially those that affect Black communities, we don't sweep things under the rug. We talk, we process, and we create space to feel.
My own upbringing shaped this approach. I lost my father when I was young, but I was fortunate to be surrounded by uncles who modeled emotional expressions. They were strong, but also loving and honest.
That kind of emotional presence stuck with me.
Still, when I became a single mother, I assumed I had to be the "strong one." I thought being tough was part of the job, especially raising boys on my own. But what surprised me most was how this journey of parenting them to talk about their emotions also softened me.
Creating space for my sons to express their emotions helped me confront my own. I stopped hiding my tears. I let them see me have a hard day. I apologized when I made a mistake. And in doing so, I learned that my vulnerability didn't make me a weaker parent; it made me a more present one.
Encouraging my sons to be open with me has changed how we live our lives, and we make decisions together, including the bold decision to move from New York City to Portugal. That move wasn't something I decided to do on my own — my sons and I talked about it openly and honestly.
They had shared their anxiety about school safety in the US, the lockdown drills that left them shaken, and the constant sense of unease they had been feeling. We held a family meeting, weighed the pros and cons, and came to the decision together. Our collective peace of mind mattered more than staying where we were, simply because it was familiar.
Parenting through adolescence is challenging, and parenting through adolescence during an international move is even more so. But I see now how deeply it matters. My sons are emotionally aware. They are good at regulating their emotions, asking for help when they need it, and showing empathy in many ways. I see them treat others with genuine respect, and they know that respecting women goes beyond just polite gestures like opening doors. It's about listening, caring, and showing up with kindness.
I've learned that raising emotionally healthy boys isn't just good for them; it's good for everyone. It creates men who are less likely to bottle up pain, lash out, or struggle in silence. And it starts at home, in childhood, with parents who are willing to lead by example.
I know that kids mimic what they see. If I want my sons to be honest, I have to be honest. If I want them to feel safe expressing their emotions, I have to show them what that looks like. That kind of parenting isn't always easy, but it's worth it.
I'm proud of who my sons are becoming, and I'm proud of who I've become along the way.
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