My household is predominantly female. It’s just me, my daughter, and even our dog is female. My son is the sole male in our home, a role he has occupied since I became a single parent following the untimely passing of my husband, who lost a fierce battle with brain cancer.
I grew up in a similar environment. My mother, my sister, and I were often surrounded by feminine energy, while my brother was the only boy. Like me, my mother was a single parent, but her situation was different—my father left without looking back, apart from the occasional belated birthday call.
Back then, it was common for people to approach my brother and tell him he needed to step up and be the “man of the house” after our father left. He was only six years old. I remember observing these exchanges, noting how he would lower his chin and avoid eye contact, as if the weight of those expectations was too heavy to bear.
It was too heavy. Even as a young girl, I understood that it was unfair to put such a burden on a child. Little did I know at the time that I could voice my concerns.
Now, those same words are being directed at my son—though thankfully, not as often as my brother experienced. Typically, it’s older men who look him in the eye and say, “You know, you need to be the man of the house now.” This time, I know how to respond.
Telling a child he must become “the man of the house” after losing his father—regardless of the reason—is deeply problematic. What does it even mean to be “the man” of the house? That phrase is rooted in outdated gender norms and traditional roles. Why must a household have a male figure? What can a man provide that a woman cannot? For nearly four years, I have successfully managed our home alone. While it would be nice to share the responsibilities with another adult, I can assure you that it’s not a necessity, nor does that adult have to be male. I’m confident that if I teamed up with another single mom, we’d create an amazing household.
Moreover, suggesting that my son should be the man of the house undermines my abilities as a parent. While I recognize that the sentiment may be well-intentioned—perhaps meant to encourage my strong-willed son to help around the house—it implies that the speaker doesn’t trust in my capacity to handle things. It suggests that I am somehow insufficient.
We all need support, and yes, it takes a village to raise a child. However, placing that responsibility on my son only exacerbates the insecurities that accompany my role as a single parent. Not only does it impact me, but it also sends a message to him that I’m not enough and places the burden on him to fill gaps.
What truly strikes me is the weight of that burden. I witnessed my brother struggle under the expectations placed on him, feeling like he fell short because he was asked to step into shoes that were never meant for him. I refuse to allow my son to bear that same weight.
My primary duty as a parent is to protect my children, and I take that responsibility very seriously. This is why my response to anyone suggesting that my son needs to be the man of the house is always swift and resolute. No, he does not have to take on any additional responsibilities beyond what he had in a two-parent household.
What he needs is to be a child—one who feels loved and secure, without the pressure to fill adult roles because life has thrown us a curveball.
In 2021, it’s high time we stop telling the sons of single mothers that they must be the “man of the house.” Honestly, it’s time to retire that phrase altogether.
If you’re interested in more on this topic, check out this insightful piece on home insemination. For those looking to explore options for family-building, Cryobaby offers an excellent at-home insemination kit. Additionally, if you’re curious about the IVF journey, this resource on the IVF process is invaluable.
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