In 2021, I see I sent my home-alone eldest 12 unanswered messages over three days. I have to face facts: they’re just not that into me‘Texting your teenage son is like texting a guy who has no interest in you” goes a meme that has re-emerged recently, piercing in its accuracy. “I am so proud of you, I love you, have a great day,” the ur-version goes; “OK,” the son replies. Longer versions feature a litany of lengthy mum texts – offers of food, solicitous inquiries, general expressions of love – met with single-syllable son replies. Occasionally, there’s the teen son equivalent of a booty call: a request for cash (or food).I feel the truth of it to my core, and it trails on into their 20s. I considered myself relatively sanguine about my sons leaving home: there was no sobbing into pillows or sniffing left-behind sweaters. I thought I projected unconditional yet stable maternal support and appropriate boundaries. Our WhatsApps, however, tell a different, unhinged story: my sons keep in touch in a normal, loving, if laconic way, but my messages – quantity and content – give me a full-body cringe. Continue reading...