Today was one of those days that started out ordinary, but ended up opening my heart and mind in ways I didn’t expect. I sat down for what I thought would be a casual chat with my 24-year-old son, Darius. Just a simple mother-son conversation. But it turned into something far more powerful — a window into a generation I thought I understood, and a reminder that motherhood doesn’t stop when your child turns 18.
It all began at a local sports center. We were watching a group of little kids practicing taekwondo. That moment brought back memories — how I once considered signing Darius up for martial arts when he was small. But we chose gymnastics instead. And oh, how naturally gifted he was. At just 7 or 8 years old, he was already moving through the ranks like a rising star. Sadly, we had to stop because the fees became too much. I still carry a little guilt about that. Shortly after, he turned to acting — landing a role as Junior B at age 9. I sometimes wonder what his body, his mindset, his path would’ve been like had we stuck with gymnastics. But life, as always, is full of those ifs. We make choices. We move forward.
Then came the curveball.
As we were talking, I half-jokingly asked Darius if he had a “sneaky link.” I didn’t expect a real answer — let alone the kind of deep, open dialogue it sparked. He didn’t shy away. He answered honestly. And from there, the conversation took off in directions I never saw coming.
Darius started talking about generational shifts — how Millennials, Gen Z, Gen Alpha, and even the newly named Gen Beta are growing up in completely different realities. He said, “Gen Beta will come out the womb knowing ChatGPT, Mom.” I laughed, but he was serious. His point wasn’t just about technology, it was about identity. He said he’s grateful to have experienced both worlds — the freedom of outdoor play, tree climbing, and riding bikes and the digital age of Snapchat, Netflix, and social media. That balance made him who he is.
(If you enjoyed this post and want to try out the same ingredients and tools I use, feel free to check them out below!
These are affiliate links, which means I earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. Thank you for supporting my work 💛
And then, yes — we talked about OnlyFans.
I was not ready. Darius explained in detail how the platform works — subscriptions, collabs, pay-per-view. I sat there, stunned, but listening. He told me he had used it before. Not out of shame or addiction, but because meeting people now isn’t like it was in my day. He said something that stuck with me: “I can’t just walk up to a girl at the checkout counter and ask for her number. It doesn’t work like that anymore.” And I felt that. I realized I had underestimated how drastically the landscape of human connection has changed for his generation.
We didn’t stop there. We got into cultural stereotypes — specifically the difference between “Karen” and “Keisha.” I tried to explain that “Karen” often implies entitlement, while “Keisha” might come across as loud or confrontational, but doesn’t carry the same sense of privilege. Darius actually agreed. We laughed over why “Karen” became the meme — maybe because it’s such a classic Boomer name. From there, we ventured into celebrity baby names — Blue Ivy, Rumi, Sir — and how names now are bold, unique, full of Zs and Xs. It’s fascinating how naming your child has become a form of generational expression.
And then came Netflix and chill. Lord have mercy.
I admitted that me and his father still have our “chill” moments. Darius’s reaction was priceless — a mix of disbelief and comic horror, like most kids hearing their parents mention anything remotely romantic. But I told him the truth: intimacy doesn’t disappear in marriage. It just evolves. And he deserves that too, when he finds the right person. He’s 24 now — grown, responsible, yet still figuring it out like the rest of us.
Then we laughed till we cried talking about strip clubs. Darius told me a story from when he was 21, at a gay club in Tucson, and almost gave a tip to a male dancer but got too shy. I confessed that I’ve been to a few bachelorette parties where I felt super awkward around half-naked men dancing — but hey, maybe with a little wine, it wouldn’t be so bad. It was one of those weirdly wholesome moments where mother and son meet each other not as parent and child, but as adults who can admit the human messiness of life and laugh together.
By the end of our conversation, one thing was clear: my son is a man now. A thoughtful, honest, deeply reflective man. He’s been through things I can’t always relate to, but I respect him all the more for it. He didn’t flinch when I brought up hard topics. He wasn’t defensive. He was real. And that kind of openness between a mother and son? That’s rare. That’s precious.
I closed our video with an apology — in case our conversation offended anyone. But honestly, this is just who we are. We talk raw. We stay curious. We sometimes toe the line. But we do it out of love, not shock value. And I truly believe having these awkward, uncomfortable, yet heart-expanding talks is how families grow stronger.
Above all, we keep God first. We remind each other of what matters most. And no matter what crazy, weird, bold topics we dive into, the foundation of our relationship is always love, respect, and that unbreakable bond of family.
