A Personal Reflection

I grew up with a mother who had a severe hearing disability. In the Seventies, in India, there was little support available. She used a device that acted more like an amplifier than a hearing aid, often distorting words rather than clarifying them. Sometimes it even caused her to mishear things entirely, leading to painful misunderstandings. As a little girl,  I felt her frustration deeply and longed for her to have the tools—like sign language, or a better hearing aid—that could have made her life, and our bond with her, so much easier.

    And thank God, she was later able to get a most sensitive pair of hearing aids, which made her life so easy, and she became much happier. 

While my mother struggled with communication, my father became my greatest teacher of empathy, validation, and compassion. He was extraordinarily emotionally tuned in—not only to my mother’s needs, but also to ours as children. He modeled what emotional intelligence looks like in everyday life: steady eye contact, holding my hand when I was upset, and openly sharing his feelings. Unlike many men of his generation, he was unafraid to cry.

I vividly remember how he would tell us stories of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him). As he shared, tears would flow freely, and he would say that anyone who sheds a tear in love of the Prophet earns closeness to God. Those moments shaped my understanding that strength lies not in suppressing emotion, but in expressing it with sincerity.

When I asked my father where his sensitivities came from, he would often speak of his own grandfather—a scholar from downtown Kashmir, an imam in his mosque. From him, my father inherited a spirituality woven with empathy, humility, and deep emotional awareness.

Reflecting on these generations of influence, I now see that emotional intelligence is not something abstract or optional. It is lived, modeled, and passed down—shaping how men show up as fathers, husbands, leaders, and human beings. And while I learned these lessons from my father, I believe mothers play a unique and powerful role in teaching their sons emotional intelligence.

Why Emotional Intelligence Matters for Boys

Traditionally, boys are told to “man up,” “don’t cry,” or “be strong.” While meant to toughen them, such messages often teach boys to suppress emotions, which can lead to aggression, poor communication, depression, and strained relationships later in life.

Emotional intelligence (EI)—the ability to recognize, understand, and regulate emotions in oneself and others—is a vital skill that predicts success in relationships, leadership, and overall well-being (Salovey & Mayer, 1990). For boys, learning EI early protects them from the harmful effects of emotional suppression and prepares them to become resilient, empathetic men.

The Mother’s Role in Teaching Emotional Intelligence

1. Model Emotional Awareness

   • Children learn by watching. When mothers express their feelings openly and calmly, they teach sons that emotions are natural and not a sign of weakness.

2. Encourage Expression

   • Boys often face pressure to hide sadness or fear. A mother who validates these feelings—“I see you’re disappointed, and that’s okay”—gives her son permission to be authentic.

3. Teach Empathy

   • Simple questions like, “How do you think your friend felt?” help boys practice seeing the world from another’s perspective.

4. Validate, Don’t Dismiss

   • Instead of saying, “Stop crying, it’s nothing,” a mother’s validating response—“I can see this hurt you”—helps boys feel seen and builds emotional security.

5. Coach Healthy Communication

   • Encouraging “feeling words” like frustrated, nervous, proud, or excited equips boys to articulate emotions rather than act them out.

6. Set Compassionate Boundaries

   • Teaching boys that feelings are valid, but harmful behavior is not, helps them regulate impulses and respect others.

7. Redefine Strength and Masculinity

   • By affirming that kindness, sensitivity, and vulnerability are strengths, mothers raise sons who see emotional intelligence as a form of resilience—not weakness.

Closing Reflection

When I think about emotional intelligence, I return to the lessons I absorbed as a child. My mother’s hearing struggles showed me how painful it can be when communication fails. My father’s tenderness, empathy, and openly expressed emotions showed me how healing it is when love and validation are present. And through him, I saw how generational wisdom—passed down from his grandfather—could shape not only a family but the very way we relate to the world.

This is why I believe mothers have an extraordinary opportunity. By teaching their sons to name, validate, and share their emotions, they are raising boys who will grow into men capable of building healthier relationships, stronger communities, and a more compassionate world.

References

• Addis, M. E., & Mahalik, J. R. (2003). Men, masculinity, and the contexts of help-seeking. American Psychologist, 58(1), 5–14.

• Denham, S. A., et al. (2003). Preschool emotional competence: Pathway to social competence? Child Development, 74(1), 238–256.

• Eisenberg, N., et al. (1998). Dispositional emotionality and regulation: Their role in predicting quality of social functioning. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 74(6), 1369–1387.

• Kochanska, G. (1997). Mutually responsive orientation between mothers and their young children. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 6(1), 19–22.

• Krause, E. D., et al. (2003). Childhood emotional invalidation and adult psychological distress. Child Abuse & Neglect, 27(2), 199–213.

• Mahalik, J. R., Burns, S. M., & Syzdek, M. (2007). Masculinity and perceived normative health behaviors. Social Science & Medicine, 64(11), 2201–2209.

• Salovey, P., & Mayer, J. D. (1990). Emotional intelligence. Imagination, Cognition and Personality, 9(3), 185–211.