I was at the farmer’s market, basket in hand, a toddler on my hip, and two more boys trailing along. Mentally running through my list, I hoped I’d brought enough bags to hold the week’s worth of produce for my army of tiny male humans. The youngest was already wiggling and grabbing at anything within reach.
“Come on, guys, we need peppers! Look at these beautiful ones! Let’s count together—1…2…3…4…” I tried to keep it light while also sneaking in a little math lesson. “Okay, so if it was $4.67 and you gave her $5, how much change should you get back?” Meanwhile, my toddler was happily gnawing on a yellow pepper like it was an apple.
That’s when she came up behind me. Distracted by my full hands, I didn’t notice her at first—but he did. I felt him tense against me. He buried his little face in my shoulder and shouted, “No!”
Turning around, I saw someone I vaguely knew reaching for him. “Looks like he doesn’t want to go to you,” I said, brushing it off.
She looked offended and tried to tickle him instead. “No!” he screamed again.
Getting a bit more firm, I said, “He obviously doesn’t want to be touched.” She huffed and walked away, muttering something about him being rude—or maybe it was about me. I honestly couldn’t tell.
Either way, I wasn’t the rude one.
I beg you to ask yourself before you approach a child: would you interact with an adult this way? Would you walk up to a stranger and tickle them? Reach out to touch their hair? Of course not—it’s awkward, creepy, and invasive.
Children are not people in waiting. They are people now. They deserve autonomy, and teaching them to accept touches or affection from an adult just to spare feelings is a dangerous lesson. I want my children to understand that their body is their own, and they owe no one access to it.
Don’t guilt them into giving you a hug. Don’t keep asking for a kiss after they say no. Their “no” deserves the same respect we demand for adults in similar situations. Respect it, and they’ll learn to respect others in turn.
I have sons. Teaching them about consent doesn’t start at 16, the day before their first date. It starts now, with how you allow them to be treated, not just how they treat others.
Help me raise men of integrity—men who respect everyone around them. Men who stand up when they see injustice. Men who empower those nearest to them by honoring boundaries without question.
Help me raise the kind of men this world truly needs. They don’t happen by accident.
