Talking to Your Son About His Body

Dad, your teenage son’s body is telling a story. It’s not the kind of story that plays out on a stage or soccer field. I don’t mean his actions, words, or thoughts. I’m talking about his actual body, growing and changing, becoming something it wasn’t before. And talking to your son about his body is one of the most important jobs you have.

Your baby son’s body probably felt more like a fact than a story, summed up in three words: “It’s a boy!” But that delivery room declaration was only the first line. Somewhere around thirteen, the story started picking up its pace.

“It’s a boy . . . becoming a man.”

You might not have called it a “story,” but you know it’s happening. You’ve seen his sudden growth spurt. You’ve heard his voice crack and then drop half an octave. You’ve certainly smelled him in the car after practice. And your body told a story like this, too—maybe one you’d rather forget.

Your son also knows his body is telling a story, even if you’ve never talked about it with him. He sees it when he looks in the mirror, hears it in his friends’ jokes, and smells it in that girl’s perfume drifting past him in the hallway. And he feels it when the part of his body he always thought was just for using the bathroom starts acting like it has a mind of its own.

He knows something new, wild, and weighty is happening. What he doesn’t know is what that “something” means. He’s watching this story unfold, but it’s like watching a foreign film without subtitles.

Your son doesn’t just need facts and diagrams, deodorant, or a lesson in men’s room etiquette. He needs an interpreter—someone to tell him how these things fit into the story God created his body to tell.

Talking to your son is your job, Dad.[1]

That might feel terrifying. Maybe you never had an interpreter, or you still feel shame about your body’s story. But the Lord has called you to this task. He will equip and be with you, and so will his church. You’re not alone.

And silence is not an option. If you don’t interpret this story for your son, someone else will. In fact, someone else probably already has. From the time he realized he had a body he’s been hearing interpretations of what it’s for—and forming his own.

Here are five interpretations he’s probably already been offered. Let’s name them and then consider talking to your son about his body in light of the one true story he actually needs to hear.

Long before he had any concept of sex, your son discovered he had a penis. And, like nearly every other little boy, he was delighted. Someone had to teach him what to call this part of his body, but nobody had to teach him it was there.

Someone had to teach him to keep it covered, as is right. But how he learned that matters, especially if it was delivered with shame . . . maybe a wince, a horrified look, or a scold. Maybe he heard a disgusted “Put that away!”—or just awkward silence. Either way, plenty of boys have had their penis, maybe even their whole body, interpreted as something dirty. Clothes, then, are not about dignity. They’re just a disguise to cover the awful truth.

Nobody has to tell a boy that bodies are funny. One father told me about the first time his toddler son saw him getting out of the shower, and his son laughed. Funny shapes, sounds, smells, and reactions—long before he understood any of it, your son discovered that his body was comedy gold.

Cartoons for boys are full of characters farting, belching, or getting hit in the groin. Girls are “sugar and spice,” while boys are “snips and snails.” From early childhood, your son’s vulnerable, unpredictable, delightfully awkward boy-body has been interpreted as a punchline. And punchlines aren’t worth good food, good sleep, or good care. Beyond that, boys who don’t like what they see in the mirror often learn to mock themselves first, before anyone else can. Better a punchline than a punching bag.

God wired the male body from head to toe with nerve endings, with thousands of them concentrated in one particular place. Your son doesn’t need a health class to figure out where. Most boys discover by sheer, innocent accident that touching their genitals feels good.

Friends, online voices, or maybe even a health class teacher are ready with an interpretation for this surprise “feature.” His body is built for his enjoyment—his to play with and explore. What feels good? What feels even better? If it doesn’t hurt anyone, there’s nothing to worry about. His body is the game, and his pleasure is the prize. Before he knows it, the game is playing him.

Somewhere in adolescence, your son notices that tall, handsome, muscular male bodies get more attention from girls and more admiration from guys. This isn’t all in his head; even the Bible makes clear that some bodies are more physically striking than others.[2]

God created human beauty, both male and female, to reflect his beauty. But your son is surrounded by a modern interpretation of what beauty is for: sales. Fitness influencers use workout videos to advertise supplements to young men, who then use shirtless gym selfies to advertise themselves to young women. Women have long experienced this, but the male body is increasingly interpreted as a marketing campaign. And like any campaign, it can always be optimized for more views, more likes. More sales. For boys who feel lost in the crowd, a body that stops traffic can sound like the answer.

Whether or not he spends time in a gym, your son will likely be bigger and stronger than his female peers, a gap that only grows as he nears adulthood. This is part of his body’s story. God built men, generally, with real physical strength.

But your son will hear two loud, contradictory interpretations of that strength. One says, “Your body is a weapon, so use it.” Take what you want. Dominate. Don’t apologize. Men are competition, and women are trophies. But another interpretation says, “Your body is a weapon, so disarm.” The only good man is a neutralized man, small and safe. He will learn that the same strength that makes his dad beam with pride can make others shrink back in fear. He’ll have to decide what to do with that power.

Dirty secret. Joke. Arcade. Billboard. Weapon. Five interpretations your son is likely to hear, sometimes all in the same week, for the story unfolding in his body.

Here’s the real story: Your son’s body is a gift from God.

His body is a gift that he receives from God, and it tells him he’s a man. It’s primed for adventure, and it’s worth enjoying within the boundaries of God’s very good design.

But his body isn’t just for him. It’s a gift that your son is also meant to give away—maybe to a wife someday, but long before that, to his family, friends, church, and community. This may be through acts of heroism, but more likely it’ll be through nothing more dramatic than showing up, again and again, with his body, for the people God has placed in his path. Rooted in Christ, the true Giver, your son can keep giving himself away without ever coming up empty.

He will be tempted to believe every one of those five false interpretations unless you’re talking to your son and telling him a better story first. You do not want to defer this sacred responsibility to other teenage boys, online influencers, or porn actors. But you don’t have to carry it alone, either. Pastors, brothers, and other fathers in your church—all of them are willing to help.

You are the one God has called, even with your confusion, even with your track record.

If no one ever told you the true story of your body, ask the Holy Spirit to speak it to your heart now. And if you’ve shared a false story with your son, even without meaning to, it’s not too late to ask forgiveness and start again.

As a father, you have an opportunity to reject both shame and silence and instead speak words of blessing over your son’s body as he grows and changes on his way to manhood. You can help him see his body as something sacred to protect rather than something dirty to hide.

You can laugh with your son about the silliness of his body (and yours), even as you remind him of his dignity as an image-bearer. You can remind him that he’s nobody’s punchline or punching bag, not even his own.

You can warn him, maybe from experience, that God created sexual pleasure to be far too powerful for solo play or casual games. You can tell him that, even in the covenant of marriage, he is created to give, not just receive. You can teach your son to enjoy the many other God-given pleasures available to him now, like exercise and play, symphonies and dances, mountain lakes and medium-rare steaks.

You can show your son how to care for the body God has given him and present it well—not to sell himself, but to glorify the One who already bought him, the One who sees him and loves him. You can tell him that true beauty comes from reflecting Christ.

You can model for your son what it looks like to show up and use his God-given strength for the sake of others—not as an advantage to exploit or a threat to apologize for, but as a responsibility. You can show him the true power of sacrificial love.

You might want to prepare before talking to your son about his body. Maybe ask your pastor for recommended reading or consult some other fathers. You might even want to practice saying the word “penis” out loud a few times, if you think it might trip you up. But you don’t need to be an expert.

At some point, you just need to show up. You need to talk. You need to push through the discomfort and your son’s eyerolls. Silence is not an option.

But Dad, here’s what your son needs most from you. More than your knowledge, your track record, and a comprehensive theology of the male body, he needs you. He needs your body, near his own, ready to enter the confusing and beautiful story of his body with the truth. His body is not a secret, a joke, a machine, a product, or a weapon. His body is a gift.

And by showing up, in the flesh, with your own body, you have the opportunity to help him believe it.

FOOTNOTES:

[1]A note to single moms: If your son’s father can’t have this conversation, please know that God has not abandoned you or your son. With the Spirit’s help, you can tell your son the true story of his body, too. It’s also wise, as he grows, to invite godly, trustworthy men (a grandfather, uncle, pastor, or family friend) to walk alongside him. Ask the Lord for wisdom about who to ask, and when. He has not left you to figure this out alone.

[2] For example, see Gen. 29:17, 1 Sam. 16:6–7, 2 Sam. 14:25.