When Did Aggression Become Affection?

Remember when we were kids and somebody would tell us that the little boy pulling our hair, chasing us around the playground, or constantly bothering us was doing it because he liked us?

Oh, he just has a crush on you.

That's how boys flirt.

He just wants your attention.

And somehow that was supposed to make everything okay.

Well, here we are, years later, and I'm realizing we haven't moved nearly as far away from that thinking as I'd hoped.

Except now I'm hearing similar explanations about girls.

She just likes him.

She's trying to get his attention.

They're just playing.

Really?

Because somewhere along the way, we need to ask ourselves a question.

When did having feelings for somebody become permission to disregard theirs?

And perhaps more importantly, what are we teaching children when we excuse behavior because we believe the person engaging in it has good intentions?

Let's say a teenage girl has a crush on a boy.

She wants his attention.

Maybe she's jealous because he's interested in somebody else.

Maybe she doesn't know how to express her feelings.

Maybe she's embarrassed.

Maybe she's trying to impress her friends.

All of those things are possible.

Now let's say she repeatedly takes his belongings, grabs him, pushes him, embarrasses him in front of other students, or continues touching him when he doesn't want to be touched.

Are we still calling that flirting?

And before anybody gets started, reverse the genders.

If a teenage boy repeatedly took a girl's phone, pulled at her clothing, grabbed her, or continued bothering her after she tried to walk away, would we tell her to be flattered?

Would we explain that he probably just liked her?

Would we expect her to tolerate it?

I certainly hope not.

Unwanted attention doesn't become acceptable simply because someone finds you attractive.

That's not how consent works.

That's not how boundaries work.

And that's certainly not what we should be teaching young people about healthy relationships.

Now, I want to be careful here.

Because I often hear people say that intent doesn't matter, only impact does.

I disagree with that as an absolute statement.

Intent matters when we're trying to understand why someone behaved a certain way.

Impact matters when we're examining what their behavior did to another person.

And accountability requires us to consider both.

A teenager who grabs someone's backpack because they're awkwardly trying to flirt may have a different motivation from someone who takes the backpack to deliberately intimidate or humiliate them.

That distinction matters when we're deciding how to intervene.

But here's what doesn't change.

Neither teenager has permission to take somebody else's belongings.

The explanation helps us understand the behavior.

It doesn't automatically excuse it.

And that's a distinction adults need to become much more comfortable making.

We can acknowledge that a child may not have intended harm while still teaching them that their behavior was inappropriate.

That's part of growing up.

That's part of learning empathy.

And that's part of accountability.

I think we're missing an opportunity to teach some very important lessons.

Having a crush doesn't give you ownership of somebody else's attention.

Being jealous doesn't give you permission to interfere with their relationships.

Feeling rejected doesn't justify humiliating someone.

Wanting to be noticed doesn't make unwanted touching acceptable.

And getting your friends involved doesn't somehow make the behavior harmless.

These are lessons we should be teaching all children.

But we need to be especially careful when we explain aggressive behavior as affection.

What happens when they starts dating?

What happens when they feels rejected?

What happens when a partner wants privacy?

What happens when they doesn't like who their partner is talking to?

Are we suddenly going to expect them to understand that taking a phone, monitoring communications, embarrassing each other, or physically interfering isn't acceptable?

When did we teach her that?

Because if we've spent years telling them those behaviors are harmless expressions of affection, we shouldn't be surprised if they struggle to recognize when their behavior crosses a boundary.

Now, that doesn't mean every child who engages in these behaviors will become abusive.

Absolutely not.

Children are still developing.

They make mistakes.

They test boundaries.

They learn through experience.

But that is exactly why adults are supposed to intervene and teach.

Not explain everything away.

Here's the other side of this conversation.

We're raising boys with a lot of expectations.

Don't hit girls.

Don't cry.

Don't complain.

Don't be weak.

Don't let anybody disrespect you.

Stand up for yourself.

Control your emotions.

Be a man.

Whew.

Can we acknowledge how confusing some of those messages can become?

First, let me be clear.

We should absolutely teach boys not to use physical aggression as retaliation.

Actually, we should teach that to everybody.

Being angry doesn't give you permission to punch somebody.

Being embarrassed doesn't justify violence.

And being provoked doesn't automatically make retaliation acceptable.

But what happens when a boy is repeatedly touched, grabbed, humiliated, or bothered by girls, and the adults around him tell him they're just playing?

What happens when he expresses discomfort and somebody tells him the girls probably like him?

What happens when he tries to walk away and the behavior continues?

What happens when he asks for help and feels dismissed?

We're telling him he's responsible for managing his emotions.

And he is.

But are we also providing an environment where his boundaries are respected?

Because those two things are supposed to go together.

We cannot demand emotional regulation from children while failing to teach and enforce the boundaries that help keep them safe.

Some boys may become withdrawn.

Some may stop reporting problems.

Some may begin believing that nobody will take their concerns seriously.

Some may become resentful.

And some may eventually respond aggressively.

None of those outcomes is inevitable.

And none of them excuses violence.

But if we're serious about prevention, we need to examine what happens before the situation escalates.

Not just what happens when somebody finally loses control.

I really want parents and educators to sit with this one.

Everyone should have bodily autonomy.

They have the right to say no.

They have the right not to be touched.

They have the right to privacy.

They have the right to be uncomfortable with somebody's attention.

They have the right to report unwanted behavior.

And they have the right to expect adults to take those concerns seriously.

We spend a lot of time teaching girls that their bodies belong to them.

As we should.

But that same message belongs to boys.

Nobody is entitled to another person's body, belongings, attention, or affection.

Not because they're attractive.

Not because they're popular.

Not because they're flirting.

Not because they're dating.

Not because they're a boy.

And not because they're a girl.

Here's where I think this conversation becomes particularly uncomfortable.

Parents.

Teachers.

Coaches.

Administrators.

Counselors.

All of us.

What are we doing when children report behavior that makes them uncomfortable?

Are we listening?

Are we investigating?

Are we teaching?

Or are we making assumptions?

They're just playing.

That's how kids are.

She likes him.

He likes her.

They'll work it out.

Maybe they will.

But maybe they won't.

And maybe what looks like harmless play to an adult feels humiliating, threatening, or overwhelming to the child experiencing it.

That doesn't mean every disagreement requires a disciplinary hearing.

Children need room to make mistakes and resolve ordinary conflicts.

But there's a difference between an occasional misunderstanding and a repeated pattern of unwanted behavior.

There's also a difference between mutual play and one child continuing after another has made it clear they don't want to participate.