The cliché is familiar to most of us: a steel jawed, gun wielding, bicep exposing father, sending the intimidating message to all young male suitors hoping to date his precious princess—that this will be over his dead body.
And if by a miracle the guy is ever gonna get an opportunity with “Baby Girl”, he’d better be prepared to adhere to a strict set of rules or face “Big Daddy’s” swift, crushing wrath.
Let’s put aside the ridiculous presence of guns or the threat of physical violence against a child for now, and look at the deeper, somewhat more virtuous message at play here: Our young women are priceless and worthy of protection as they enter the perilous world of teen and preteen romance and sexual activity.
Fair enough. This is something I fully believe in. The problem is it’s only it’s a half-truth; a dangerously one-sided equation that perpetuates the role of boy always as wild-eyed pursuer and girl as forever virtuous, potential victim.
This isn’t the long-criticized Disney trope of the helpless, endangered princess being rescued by the brave, handsome prince who gives her meaning. It’s actually much worse than that: it’s the pristine princess, forever in danger of the lustful, libido-driven prince himself.
As the father of a sweet, gentle boy whose heart and self-image and well-being I treasure greatly, it worries me to see the way such stereotypical thinking shows disregard for him and the young man he will become; as if he’s already been wired for immorality and programmed for deviance and immune from emotional wounds.
I wonder what kind of message we’re sending to our young men with all this Daddy-Daughter posturing and princess protecting.
It seems we’re saying two things to them with absolute clarity:
1) In any physical/romantic/sexual interactions with young girls, you will always be the aggressor and the threat and the problem.
2) We really don’t have much concern for the emotional damage done to you when it comes to dating and sex: You’re on your own, so deal with it yourself.
We’re also teaching our young women that the only healthy way of dating is to abstain from it; that love and attraction and affection and the desire for intimacy are bad things to be avoided.
Much has been said (and deservedly so) of Christian purity culture and the way that it turns a girl’s virginity into a coveted prize to be given to someone deserving (in marriage) or surrendered too soon. The former preserves her value, the latter terribly devalues her. While admittedly a horrible way of helping young people understand the complexities of sex and the greater toll of romantic relationships, at least it does attempt to give young women some sense of their inherent worth as human beings (albeit a twisted, misguided, and unhealthy one).
But who’s looking out for our boys as they seek to become men?
Who is taking the time to see them as worth treasuring and protecting and shielding too?
Who is reminding them that they matter and that their hurt counts?
Who is telling them they are good and priceless, and don’t have to conform to a cultural image of manhood?
Who is championing their emotional health and mitigating their collateral damage as they become romantically involved and/or sexually active?
As a pastor who has worked with middle and high school students for nearly two decades, I’ve had a front row seat to teen dating and all that surrounds it. I’ve seen countless relationship scenarios that fit no stereotype at all; ones where young men were as equally hurt and pressured and wounded as young women.
I certainly don’t want a “Moms Against Boys Dating” initiative launched, or some alternative stereotypes perpetuated that seek to vilify more aggressive young girls. The issue isn’t highlighting the difference between genders, it’s acknowledging what is common to the teenage human condition and speaking honestly to it.
I would like to see adults (especially parents) helping all our children understand the difficulty and gravity of dating and sex, and the mutual physical and emotional land mines waiting for them as they engage in these things.
I’d love to see us stop turning the incredible complexity of teenage relationships into some oversimplified meme fodder, and start crafting meaningful conversations that allow our young women and men to be equally cared for and guided and celebrated.
We need conversations about teenagers and dating that can’t fit on a bumper sticker or a t-shirt.
All of our children are worth it.
