There’s a small print hanging on the wall just outside our kitchen that says simply, “It’s okay to cry here.”

I don’t necessarily need the reminder. I come from a family of cryers. If you’ve been lucky enough to see my dad speak, you know he can rarely get through a keynote or workshop without tearing up. We cry when we’re sad, grieving, grateful, in awe, or moved.

Crying is, of course, just one way of moving through feelings. As psychologist Dr. Lisa Damour reminds us in The Emotional Lives of Teenagers, adolescence is a window of opportunity for young people to learn a broad repertoire of regulation strategies that “bring relief and do no harm.” This includes ways to both express emotions and contain them.

Still, I’m acutely aware that crying and other vulnerable forms of emotional expression may feel less accessible or uniquely risky for my two sons as they move out into the world. I don’t pretend that this small piece of artwork on my wall is a particularly influential instruction manual (seeing their grandpa and other men express emotions is far more powerful). But I do see it as a small antidote to the wave of messaging about what it means to be a man that I know both of my children will encounter online and offline.

New data from Common Sense Media reminds us just how ubiquitous this messaging is in digital spaces. Their new report, Boys in the Digital Wild: Online Culture, Identity, & Well-Being, surveyed a nationally representative sample of boys ages 11 to 17 across the U.S. Here’s a snapshot of what they found:

• “Digital Masculinity” content is common. Nearly three-quarters of teen boys regularly masculinity-related content online, and nearly one in four experience high exposure. The most common messages revolve around making money, building muscle, and fighting or weapons. 
• Gender stereotypes are alive and well. Over two-thirds of teen boys regularly see content that promotes problematic stereotypes (for example, that girls use their looks to get what they want). 
• Emotional suppression is linked to exposure. Boys with high exposure to digital masculinity content are nearly four times more likely to believe that sharing worries makes them look weak. They are also more likely to avoid talking about emotions altogether. 
• High exposure is linked to distress. Most boys report healthy self-esteem, but those with high exposure to digital masculinity content are more likely to have low self-esteem and to report feeling lonely. 
• “Unwritten rules” create pressure. Nearly half of boys believe that they must not cry or show emotions like sadness or fear. Other rules include not acting “gay” or “feminine” and using humor instead of being serious when facing problems. 
• Body ideals flood their feeds. Ninety-one percent of boys encounter messages about body transformation online. These messages are largely about being muscular but also include messages about clothes, height, skin, and facial structure. Boys highly exposed to digital masculinity content are more than four times as likely to say social media makes them feel that they should change how they look.
• Gaming is an important space of connection and belonging…and problematic behaviors. More than half of boys report that gaming makes them feel like they belong. Yet boys also regularly observe problematic behaviors like bullying, harassment, racist and homophobic comments, and disrespectful language about women.

Who am I?

These messages are hitting boys at a sensitive period in their development. The teenage brain is built to help young people explore the questions, “Who am I?” and “Where do belong?” Answering these questions isn’t a solitary endeavor—it’s a profoundly social one. As teenagers try out different versions of themselves, they watch how others respond, gathering information about what feels authentic and what doesn’t. When it comes to boyhood, this isn’t just about online messages. For example, research demonstrates that boys who show emotions or vulnerability are more likely to be the target of bullying.

Education by Algorithm

Yet many of those experiments and reflections do unfold online, where algorithms and influencers play an outsized role in shaping the feedback loop. Influencers who equate manhood with toughness, emotional independence, and competition can capture boys’ attention at a moment when they are learning how to handle more intense emotions and are most eager for belonging and guidance. When more extreme content is amplified by recommendation systems designed to maximize engagement, it can drown out healthier models of what it means to be a boy or a man. 

Some boys certainly seek out digital masculinity content online. You can imagine a high school freshman typing, “How do I bulk up?” into a search bar and looking for compelling influencers to guide them. But for most young men though, content about jawlines, abs, and toughness pops up whether they look for it or not. A whopping two-thirds of teen boys say it just started showing up in their feeds, and another 26% say their friends shared it with them. TikTok, YouTube, and Instagram are the most commonly mentioned platforms for this type of content. 

A Mixed Bag With High Stakes

That’s not to say that there isn’t value to online spaces during adolescence. This report reminds us that many boys find real connection and a much-needed sense of belonging in gaming spaces. Young men also follow creators who offer positive and helpful guidance. Half of the boys surveyed (52%) said they can be themselves online without being judged, and nearly as many (45%) said people online can express different opinions respectfully. Notably, boys with stronger self-esteem and less loneliness were more likely to feel that way. 

Yet research suggests it may be hard to stay on the healthy side of the internet when it comes to masculinity content. Many boys start out watching content about confidence or fitness and gradually encounter more problematic messages. Algorithms make it easy for those voices to rise to the top, communicating increasingly narrow ideas about what it means to be a man. 

It’s worth paying close attention to these trends. Socialized to be self-reliant and strong, our boys are less likely to seek help when they are in distress. In 2018, the American Psychological Association issued ten new practice guidelines for working with boys and men in response to the harmful effects of “traditional masculinity ideology” on well-being. Research also links rigid and narrow gender norms to greater tolerance of dating and gender-based violence in early adulthood.

What can we do? Connect, connect, connect.

The most important tool in our toolkit isn’t a new monitoring app or cutting off the internet—it’s connection. As the report notes, “Boys with robust real-world connections show markedly better outcomes across multiple measures, demonstrating the irreplaceable value of authentic relationships.” Boys who have rich offline connections appear more likely to turn to their parents or friends for support when they hit a challenge, rather than relying on the internet alone for guidance.

In other words, let’s not leave connection and belonging up to the algorithms:

Ask curious questions. 

Resist the urge to dismiss online influencers or deliver lectures about how “bad” they are. Instead, ask what young people are seeing, hearing, and doing online. Try questions like:

• “What’s the best advice you’ve gotten online?”
• “What’s the worst?”
• “How do you decide who to follow – and what do you like most about them?”

If kids share ideas or creators that raise concern, try to hold harsh judgment or lectures in the moment. Unless there’s an immediate safety issue, the goal early on is to send the message: “We can talk about these things.” There will be time to communicate values and concerns.

Tackle tough topics. 

In their new book Talk to Your Boys, authors Joanna Schroeder and Christopher Pepper push back on the idea that boys “don’t want to talk.” During adolescence, we may need to work harder to create the conditions for conversation, but silence doesn’t mean disinterest. Boys still rely on us to make difficult topics mentionable and manageable (thanks, Mister Rogers).

Bring up subjects like body image, puberty, sex, consent, and relationships, even if they cringe. They might not ask for these talks, but they count on us to start them.

Get creative with connection.

Adolescence is a constant dance between independence and closeness. Teens often ask for the first and avoid the second, yet connection remains vital to their health and well-being. During adolescence, we need to get creative with connection. For example,

• Get active. Talk on walks or while doing a project together.
• Take their lead. Build on their interests, even if they don’t align with your own.
• Be flexible. Late night chattiness is a hallmark of adolescence. It’s worth staying up a little later for.

Start talking about algorithms, keep talking about algorithms.

Algorithmic literacy isn’t optional anymore; it’s essential. Ask questions like, “Why do you think certain videos show up on your ‘For You’ page?” or “How does this platform make money?” Teens are often more savvy than adults about how algorithms work, but these conversations help everyone reflect on how attention is captured and how content shapes beliefs. Together, brainstorm ways to curate feeds, take digital breaks, and change settings to reflect real interests and values.

Explore pathways to purpose.

The search for purpose takes center stage during adolescence. Research links a strong sense of purpose with better physical and mental health and less dependence on social media for validation. We can’t hand teens a purpose, but we can help them find offline opportunities to explore it: support their interests, connect them with purposeful adults, encourage service, and celebrate progress toward goals that matter to them.

“It’s okay to cry here.”

Perhaps most importantly, this report reminds us that even when our kids seem absorbed in their devices, they’re still watching us for cues. They notice the emotional range of the men in their lives. They pick up on the spoken and unspoken rules about which feelings are welcome and which aren’t. They look to us for models of success, fulfillment, and self-esteem. And when we’re brave enough to show a wider set of possibilities, we expand who all of us can become.