As the mom of four sons (who are teenagers now!) I’m about as “boy mom” as it gets. It’s a title I wear with pride — but lately, I feel like that title comes with a scarlet letter sewn into the fabric. Somewhere along the way, “boy mom” stopped being a simple descriptor of an experienced mom of sons and became shorthand for a whole lot of things I want zero part of: clinginess, competition, over-identification, even full-on emotional sabotage. And TBH, I’m tired of being lumped in with the worst examples of us. Because not all of us are out here trying to be our sons’ soulmates.
If you’ve been anywhere near TikTok lately, you’ve probably come across Madison Humphrey’s viral series of parody videos poking fun at stereotypical “boy moms.” Her exaggerated characters pout through baby showers, make passive-aggressive jabs at their sons’ romantic partners, and act like every hug from their adult “baby boy” is a declaration of loyalty. It’s sharp, funny … and brutal. And it’s far from the only place this stereotype shows up. Even in celebrity gossip: Recent rumor has it that Victoria Beckham had her brand-new daughter-in-law leaving her own wedding in tears. That’s the kind of stuff people point to as gospel, as proof, when they talk about boy moms behaving badly.
Let me be clear: I get it. I get why this stereotype exists, and I understand the criticism. Some women do take the whole boy mom identity way too far, to the point where it feels like a competition for their sons’ affections. They blur boundaries and stunt their kids’ independence. They insert themselves where they don’t belong and get jealous when someone else becomes the most important woman in their son’s life. It’s cringey. It’s inappropriate. And unfortunately, it’s making the rest of us look bad.
But here’s what I want to say — loudly, with my whole chest: Not all boy moms are out here perpetuating that stereotype, and those of us who aren’t hate being lumped in with the ones who are.
Some of us are putting in the work to do the exact opposite of what that image projects. We’re doing our best to raise respectful and emotionally-intelligent sons. We’re having hard conversations about consent and accountability and gender roles. We’re trying to raise boys who won’t leave their emotional labor to their future wives.
Being a boy mom is not about being obsessed with your sons. It’s about equipping them. It’s about loving them with your whole heart, while also letting them grow the hell up.
It’s hard. Raising boys — first when they’re little and your life is a blur of crumbs and chaos, and later, when you are the only woman in a house full of testosterone — is no small feat. But it’s surviving that chaos and finding the beauty in it. It’s being the grounding force in a house full of motion. It’s teaching them to be strong and soft. It’s building the kind of trust that makes them come to you with their heartbreaks. I’m proud of all the hard work I’ve put in. You know how when someone runs a marathon they put that “26.2” bumper sticker on their car as proof that they’ve done something really difficult? It’s kinda like that.
But regardless of how proud I am, I constantly feel the need to prove I’m not that kind of boy mom. The one who “claims” her son like he’s a boyfriend. The one who makes her child feel guilty for falling in love with someone else. The one who sows division instead of helping to build a strong family foundation.
Why would I, or anyone else, even want to be like that?! It’s not in my best interest to become a mother-in-law nightmare (least of all in my sons‘ best interest). I know the real power lies in supporting my sons as they build their own families. I want to be a good mother-in-law. I want my sons’ partners to feel safe with me, not scrutinized. I want to help, not hover. I want to be the kind of woman they’re glad to have in their lives and in their corner. I think of them often, even now, out there living their lives as teenage girls somewhere in this world, and I hope they’re happy and well.
Because here’s a secret that shouldn’t be a secret: Your daughters-in-law? They’re the gatekeepers to your future grandkids. And if you bulldoze your way into their space, guess what? You don’t get to be in that space. Period.
So while I definitely understand the criticism — and even laugh at the parodies — I also want (no, neeed) people to know that not all boy moms are living out a possessive version of motherhood that leaves no room for anyone else. Some of us are actively dismantling that narrative. We are not in competition with our sons’ future spouses. We are preparing our sons to be worthy of them.
We want our boys to grow into men who love deeply, respect fully, and partner equally. That means letting them pull away. It means encouraging their independence. It means letting them go when the time comes, and cheering from the sidelines as they create something beautiful with someone else.
I’d be lying if I said the thought of them no longer needing me stings. Of course it does; I’m human. From the moment they were born, I have leaned into loving them — so it hurts a bit to think that there will come a time when I’m not actively mothering them, when all the love and care and concern I’ve poured into them over the years ends up leading them away. But I know that’s the purpose. My end goal has always been to successfully let them go. I’ll grieve the days when I was the center of their universe (now that they’re teenagers, I already do) … but there’s a saying: grief is the price we pay for loving. And besides, even once I’m no longer mothering in the sense I’m used to, I have my next iteration of motherhood — and grandmotherhood! — to look forward to.
I’m not raising my own soulmates. I’m raising good men. And that distinction matters.
Some of us are over here cheering for love in all its forms. Some of us can’t wait to add new people to our circle. Some of us are genuinely rooting for our sons to find that once-in-a-lifetime kind of love — and though we fervently hope to be a part of it, we have zero desire to be in competition with it.
Being a boy mom is not a personality or a punchline. It’s a privilege.
So go ahead and roast the “toxic boy mom” trope — I’ll be in the front row with my popcorn. But don’t paint us all with the same brush. Some of us are doing the work. Some of us are raising the kind of sons who will make wonderful husbands, partners, and fathers.
And we can’t wait to love the women who love them next.
