In recent years, masks have taken on new meaning. But in truth, they were here long before. Each of us shifts and adapts depending on our surroundings, our environment, and the roles we take on.
As adults, we know that we arrive at every situation a little differently. At work we are professional, with friends we are more relaxed, and at the family table we may wear one mask with our children and another with our parents.As grown-ups, we understand these shifts in ourselves and why we behave differently. But as children, it’s confusing. They don’t always understand what is expected of them, or why an adult is suddenly upset with them for something that just a moment ago seemed funny.During adolescence, this becomes even more complicated. Teenagers want to be authentic, not fake. They build strong social and personal agendas, but often struggle to put them into practice, and things can come out clumsy. This leaves them frustrated—at others, and often at themselves.
We want to make sure we are wearing the right mask—for the right reasons. It’s important to distinguish between changing ourselves just to be liked, versus adapting our behavior because we recognize that “this is how things work here.
”Adapting to situations and to groups does not mean we are inauthentic or dishonest. We are not changing our opinions or desires—we are learning to express them differently. This is a crucial message to pass on to our children.
For teenagers, this issue is central. As parents, we must learn to have open conversations with them: asking their opinions, and sharing our own.
These conversations should span light topics—like music and fashion—to deeper issues like politics, drugs, and even sex. When our children hear what we believe in, the values we hold, and the principles our family stands for, they can reflect on whether they agree or feel differently.Our children need opportunities to practice disagreeing with us, so that later they’ll know how to stand up to peers and navigate conflict.
It’s important to remember: these conversations don’t suddenly begin at adolescence. They need to start in early childhood—asking specific questions like “Who did you play with today?” or “What song did you sing in kindergarten?” We should also share our own experiences—pleasant and difficult—and invite their perspective. Ask for their help, listen to their advice, and sometimes be willing to say, “I don’t agree with you, and I’m disappointed.” But also show them that in other moments, our pride in them will overflow with love and admiration.
If you remember just one thing from me today, let it be this:
The conversations at home must happen. All the time. Every week. Every day. About everything.