We Need to Start Teaching Boys How to Lose

I’m scared for the men in our world. No, you didn’t read that wrong: I’m not scared of them, I’m scared for them.

Courtesy of Netflix

Like most of the UK, I recently watched Netflix’s unforgettable limited series Adolescence. It’s chilling, rage-inducing, and at the same time, a painfully accurate depiction of what’s happening to the men in our world, specifically the younger generation.

Growing up, I always knew I was going to be a mum—it’s a choice I’ve made. Sure, I’ve had my fair share of shitty ex-boyfriends and situationships, but I always had this thought in my head the second those relationships ended: My son would never act that way. But after watching Adolescence, I’m not sure I can stand my ground on that thought anymore.

It’s out of our control.

Women, having grown up in the ongoing gender equality movement, are in tune with raising our kids with ideologies that reflect fairness, respect, and equality for all. Sure, I’m 25, single, and childless (sorry, Mom!), but if I had a son right now, I wouldn’t even know where to start.

Courtesy of Netflix

I was familiar with Andrew Tate’s name, and I knew he was a dangerous figure spewing misogyny, but I hadn’t fully grasped how deeply his rhetoric erodes men’s self-worth—convincing them that dominance is the only path to respect, that kindness is weakness, that rejection is humiliation.

In the third episode of the series, we see Jeremy, the 13-year-old murderer played by the talented Owen Cooper, attend a therapy session with Brioni, his therapist, played by the brilliant Erin Doherty. The episode had me on the edge of my seat, filled with rage. Jeremy’s remarks terrified me: “I could’ve touched her, but I didn’t. Doesn’t that make me better?” Chills.

What ultimately led Jeremy to stabbing his classmate Katy was rejection. He saw her as weak. Jeremy believed that because Katy’s nude photographs had been passed around school (which is child pornography, by the way), his chances with her would be higher. That she would be easier.

Jeremy took an innocent child’s life because her rejection triggered a belief system inside of him that he had been shamed into having: I’m not good enough.

This is proven in his therapy session, where he repeatedly brings down his own self-worth, then immediately seeks validation: “Do you think I’m ugly? You’re supposed to say I’m not.” His fear of rejection is exposed again when the session ends, and he begs Brioni to answer, “Do you like me?” Tragic.

It’s a cycle we’ve seen before: the woman finally decides to leave, and the man, suddenly out of control, is terrified. He shows up at her door, unannounced. He texts her friends, weaving manipulative lies: I’m worried about her mental health. Who do you think helped us draft that breakup text?

One of my closest girlfriends walked away from a toxic boyfriend, and he showed up at her door (unannounced, obviously). He wouldn’t leave. His hands repeatedly pushed down on the door handle, testing the lock. My friend and I were in the middle of dinner when we heard the knock: I watched him through the peephole. He only left when the police showed up.

Why do they go crazy after we break up with them, you ask? Because we trigger that underlying belief in them. Tucked beneath the alpha male persona is a little boy who believes he doesn’t deserve love.

And everyone deserves to feel loved.

Courtesy of Netflix

The common denominator of these toxic beliefs is shame. It was shame that drove Jeremy to stab Katy. It was shame that made him deflect in therapy, sneering at Brioni: “Are you alright? How embarrassing is that, getting scared of a 13-year-old?” when she pointed out Katy’s comments on his Instagram account. There were multiple instances where shame was prominent, but I’ll leave it at those two before this turns into a show review.

And in the real world, when rejection meets shame, the consequences can be deadly.

Elianne Andam, a 15-year-old girl, was stabbed to death in Croydon by 17-year-old Hassan Sentamu in 2023. She was helping her best friend through a breakup when her friend’s ex stabbed her. Holly Newton was murdered by her ex-boyfriend at 15 because he refused to accept their breakup. Ellie Gould, just 17, had her life taken away by her ex-boyfriend, Thomas Griffiths, after she ended their relationship—in her own home. These are just a few cases I found.

Scientific research shows that rejection in the brain triggers the same signals as physical pain. When young boys get scuffed up on the football field, we teach them to ice their wounds, to rest, to rehabilitate.

So why aren’t we teaching them how to heal their internal wounds, too?

Men don’t just feel sad when they’re rejected—they feel shamed. And shame, left unprocessed, turns into rage or self-destruction.

In Adolescence, we see it clearly: Jeremy gets up from his chair, slams his hot chocolate across the room, and demands that Brioni submits to him. “You do not get to tell me when to sit down!” he shouts.

Later, he describes an interaction with his father on the football field. When he missed a goal, he looked to his father for reassurance, but instead, his father looked away. And in a conversation with his mother, the father admits that he looked away because people around him were laughing—he was feeling ashamed, too.

How many more boys are we looking away from?

We look at them. We see them. And we don’t look away.

Adolescence: Five fucking stars.