Specifically… raising a boy into a good man when you yourself do not, in fact, have firsthand experience being a man.
Because same.
One of my biggest struggles — and if I’m being honest, one of my biggest guilt spirals at 2 a.m. — has been the stress of raising a little boy to become a good man when I don’t really know the first thing about what that’s supposed to look like.
When I grew up, I didn’t get the “this is how to be a good man” talk from my dad.
Not because he didn’t care. My dad is incredible and the literal definition of a good man and father.
But because… he was raising a daughter.
He was busy teaching me how to be a strong woman, not how to be a responsible husband, provider, protector, and emotional adult male.
Fast forward a couple decades and now I’m standing in my kitchen like:
“Okay cool cool cool… now I’m supposed to raise one of those.”
No pressure or anything.
Somehow I’m expected to guide this tiny human into a man with a moral compass, emotional intelligence, work ethic, and the ability to one day raise his own son and say, “This is what it means to be a good man.”
Meanwhile I’m Googling things like:
“How to explain deodorant to a teenage boy without crying.”
Mommas — especially my single mommas — you are NOT alone in this.
My son is still only a teenager and I am very much learning as I go. Some days I feel confident. Other days I’m convinced I’m accidentally raising a feral raccoon in basketball shorts.
But here are a few things that have helped me breathe a little easier on this journey.
Not because I have it all figured out.
But because none of us do.
1. You Don’t Have To Do This Alone (And You Shouldn’t)
This one took me a while to accept.
You are his mom. You are strong. You are capable.
But you also do not have to be everything.
One of the best things I ever did for my son was intentionally let the good men in our lives be part of raising him.
For us, that looks like my dad, my brother, and my son’s older cousin.
They fish together. They work on random projects. They talk about life in that quiet “man way” where nobody is making eye contact but somehow very important lessons are happening.
And here’s the thing — those moments matter.
They see how men talk to each other.
How they treat women.
How they handle frustration.
How they show up.
How they apologize.
How they lead.
That kind of masculine guidance is something I simply can’t teach the same way, no matter how many motivational speeches I give in the car.
And that’s okay.
You are not failing by letting other good men help shape him.
You are being wise.
2. Character Matters More Than “Man Stuff”
Listen.
I don’t know how to teach my son to change oil.
Or throw a perfect spiral.
Or fix whatever noise the dryer is currently making.
But I do know how to teach him:
• Be kind, even when it’s not convenient
• Tell the truth, especially when it’s uncomfortable
• Respect women (all women)
• Own your mistakes
• Work hard
• Show empathy
• Stand up for people who can’t stand up for themselves
And honestly?
That’s the foundation of being a good man.
The rest — the tools, the skills, the “man stuff” — can come later.
Character comes first.
(PS, yes you actually can teach him to throw the perfect spiral — this is one thing I personally did teach my son many years ago, & today he is an exceptional football player. And he is very proud to tell the world that mom taught him how to throw a football, and honestly… this is a GREAT feeling.)
3. Let Them See You Try (And Mess Up)
One thing I’ve learned in parenting in general is that perfection is wildly overrated.
My son doesn’t need a flawless mother.
He needs a real one.
He sees me work hard.
He sees me apologize when I’m wrong.
He sees me handle stress (sometimes gracefully, sometimes with snacks).
He sees me stand up for myself.
And that teaches him more than any lecture ever could.
You don’t have to model “how to be a man.”
You just have to model how to be a good human.
4. Trust That Love Goes Further Than You Think
This is the part I remind myself of when the guilt creeps in.
Your son does not need a perfect blueprint.
He needs love.
Consistency.
Guidance.
Safety.
Support.
And he already has that.
From you.
From the mom who worries about this in the first place — which by the way, is already proof you’re doing something right.
You are not behind.
You are not failing.
You are not raising him wrong.
You are raising him with intention.
And that matters more than anything.
To my single mommas raising little men:
You are doing holy, important, exhausting work.
You are shaping future husbands, fathers, leaders, and protectors of hearts.
And even on the days you feel like you’re winging it…
You are enough.
And your boys are going to be just fine. 