Today, during a session with a teenage girl, she shared some of her frustrations:
“My brother is allowed to stay out late. I’m not.”
“He can drink with his friends without asking for permission, and I have to ask a thousand times.”
Do these phrases sound familiar?
Maybe you’ve heard them from teenage daughter. Or maybe, if you pause for a moment, you’ll remember you parents saying them to yourself at her age.
The truth is, even if we don’t always realize it, many families still raise daughters and sons differently. Not because they love them any less, but because there are beliefs passed down through generations that shape how we set limits, offer freedom, or teach self-care.
Why do we protect girls more?
Often, the answer is simple: fear.
We want our daughters to be safe, avoid risks, and not suffer.
But unintentionally, that overprotection becomes control, with strict limits that don’t apply the same way to their brothers. The message they receive isn’t:
“I protect you because I love you,” but rather:
“I trust him more than I trust you”
“Your freedom is a risk”
“The world is dangerous for you, but not so much for him”
And what about our sons? Freedom… or neglect?
Boys are often given more autonomy from a young age. They’re allowed to stay home alone earlier, go out later, make decisions with little supervision. But that freedom isn’t always an advantage.
Many boys grow up with the mindset of self-sufficiency, without space to ask for help, express fear, or show vulnerability. The absence of clear boundaries can confuse them — they’re not sure if they have permission or if no one’s really paying attention.
What do our daughters feel?
Teen girls notice the difference. And when they speak up, they’re rarely heard. They compare themselves to their brothers and feel less validated, less free, less trusted by their family. Their self-esteem takes a hit. Some rebel. Others give in. But all of them, at some point, ask themselves:
“Why is it different for me?”
We can raise from equity, not fear:
Equity doesn’t mean treating everyone the same, but giving each child what they need to grow up healthy and autonomous.
It means setting boundaries based on maturity, not gender.
It means teaching them to care for themselves, not to fear the world.
It means letting daughters make mistakes, take risks, and make choices — and letting sons learn to wait, to care, and to take responsibility.
An invitation to reflect
If you see yourself in these words, don’t judge yourself.
Parenting is not about being perfect — it’s about becoming more conscious each day.
