Mothers help sons by setting boundaries for themselves

Let’s talk about mothers and sons.

We live in a world absent shared symbols, ceremonies and rituals for rites of passage into manhood. In the premodern world, these rites were universal and effective. Every culture, every tribe made overt the vital and necessary steps from puberty to manhood. Today, this journey is left largely to the clinical observations of psychology.

Learned clinicians can describe it, but the average mother and son are left to make it up as they go along. Today the journey is mostly a set of unconscious (and largely ineffective) reactions to otherwise normal developmental needs.

What are those developmental needs? Chiefly, a boy on his way to manhood needs to leave his mother. He needs to untether himself from dependency on the woman. He needs to step boldly into the office of manhood, making his own choices and then facing all of the consequences of all those choices, even the consequences he neither expected nor intended.

Now, in a world absent effective rites of passage, the boy only has one option left at his disposal: scorn.

Between ages 10 and 15, boys begin to experiment with scorn. Ceremonial contempt for the mother. On the low end, he teases the mother, makes fun of her. It’s playful, perhaps, but it also has an edge, as if he’s testing the boundaries of respect. He wants more power, and he will try to gather that power by robbing the woman of her power.

The equation begins to gather momentum with scornful sighs, eye rolling and facial expressions that connote long-suffering tolerance of the woman. He might move with deliberate slowness as he takes out the trash or finally concedes to whatever direct the woman has given.

The stakes can rise to outright attacks.

“You’re ugly … you’re old … you’re fat … you’re stupid.”

I will never forget my best childhood friend speaking snarky on the phone to his mother. We were in high school. She said, “Don’t talk smart to me, young man!” And, total deadpan, he said, “You want me to talk dumb so you can understand?”

Needless to say, he had to go home.

The boy will experiment with breaking rules. With lying. With sneaking and hiding.

Hmm … I wonder what happens if I simply don’t do my homework?

Such behavior is utterly normal, developmentally speaking. Your son is trying to grow up. His strategies, however, are ineffective.

Mom! During this window of development, your son has never needed you to be stronger than right now!

Since he is trying to rob you of your power, it is crucial for you to retain your power.

The two ways modern mothers give up power in relationship to their sons are “in principle” and by “personalizing.” Let me explain.

Strident moral reactivity (principles) is an ineffective strategy for growing boys into men. “I can’t believe you lied to me … stole from me … looked at pornography!” … etc. Wailing at your son for bad behavior from the ground of moralistic principle is a quick way to lose your power and advantage in this relationship.

Strident, personalized reactivity isn’t useful, either. “You hurt my feelings … you are so cruel to me … how can you talk to me this way?” … etc.

I’m not suggesting you abandon your principles. Nor am I suggesting it won’t hurt (be personalized) when he speaks to you with contempt. What I’m saying is that he needs you to have the strength not to react from these places of principle and personalization.

Nonreactivity is powerful.

The fundamental and most powerful disciplinary tool for 10- to 15-year-old boys is interpersonal consequences.

For example, it sounds like this …

Boy: Can you drive me to the mall to meet my friends?

Mother: Nope.

Boy: How come?

Mother: Because I’m not highly motivated to do favors for people who call me stupid and ugly.

Kaboom. Yikes. That’s a strong, powerful mother. She’s not whining. Just setting healthy, respectful boundaries. For herself. There are consequences for treating people with contempt. And it’s high time for the boy to know that.

Boy: Can I go to my friend’s house?

Mother: Nope.

Boy: How come?

Mother: Because the last time you went, you lied to me about where you were. And since, now, I’m unsure whether, when and how you are telling the truth, the only way I can be sure of anything is to give you less freedom.

Kaboom. Yikes. End of conversation.

Steven Kalas is a behavioral health consultant and counselor at Las Vegas Psychiatry and the author of “Human Matters: Wise and Witty Counsel on Relationships, Parenting, Grief and Doing the Right Thing.” His columns appear on Sundays. Contact him at 702-227-4165 or skalas@reviewjournal.com.