As a mother, my heart is constantly caught between wanting to protect my child and knowing I must let him grow into his own wisdom. I teach him about safety, about making smart choices, and about being cautious in unfamiliar places. But no matter how much we guide our children, some of life’s most powerful lessons are the ones they learn the hard way—on their own.
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This story, though we can laugh about it today, still sends a chill down my spine every time I think about what could have happened. It was December 2018, just two days before my son’s 18th birthday. We were in New York City on a special family trip—planning to see Aladdin on Broadway and attend a Make-A-Wish Foundation event. The city was glowing with energy and holiday magic. Our hotel, just steps away from Times Square, made everything feel surreal.
But while my husband and I stepped out one evening, our son decided to step into the kind of experience no parent ever hopes for. Feeling the thrill of the city and the curiosity that comes with youth, he opened a h-ookup app. Back home in Milwaukee, his options were few. But in the Big Apple, matches popped up within blocks. That was all the temptation he needed.
He struck up a conversation with a guy from the Bronx—who, hilariously and worryingly, he thought was from Brooklyn. He genuinely didn’t know the Bronx and Brooklyn were two entirely different boroughs. That little misunderstanding alone tells you how green he was.
They agreed to meet near the Walgreens by our hotel. The guy arrived, and my son was instantly taken aback—not by danger, but by volume. This man was loud, even for New York. In the middle of Times Square, he was shouting like it was a parade. My son, embarrassed and nervous, kept urging him to lower his voice. But it only got worse on the subway.
That ride to the Bronx took around 40 minutes. In that cramped train car, the guy’s voice bounced off every wall. Passengers literally took out their headphones to glance over. When they finally exited the station, my son told me he felt like he had landed on another planet. On a nearby corner, grown men sat on milk crates, gambling with dice—a scene he had only ever seen in movies.
It was at that point that the weight of his decision began to sink in. He was just a kid, not even legally an adult, alone in a city he didn’t understand, with someone he’d known for less than an hour. He had told the guy he was already 18—technically not true, though his birthday was only two days away. But that little white lie didn’t make him any safer.
Years later, when he finally shared this story with me, I could only close my eyes and exhale deeply. So many things could have gone wrong. He could have been robbed, hurt, or worse… and we wouldn’t have known where to start looking.
It was a moment that reminded me: parenting never ends, but at some point, your children’s safety is in their own hands. I told him then—and I still remind him now—that the thrill of new experiences should never come at the expense of safety.
He made it back to the hotel that night. We never knew a thing. And today, we can laugh about the guy from the Bronx who couldn’t keep his voice down. But deep down, I know that night changed something in my son. It taught him what fear feels like. It taught him that freedom comes with responsibility. And I pray it taught him a lesson he’ll carry with him forever: always, always protect yourself first.
