Common Justifications or Minimisations of Abusive Parenting
- “They were young and did the best they could.”
- “Every parent wants the best for their kids.”
- “You should be grateful for what you have.”
- “Other kids have had it worse than you.”
- “It’s just a bit of hitting / a slap on the wrist.”
- “Everyone has been hit at some point; it’s normal.”
- “There’s no manual on how to raise kids.”
- “The child was too young to really understand what happened.”
- “You’re exaggerating/overreacting.”
- “They didn’t mean it like that.”
- “They were stressed / under pressure.”
- “It was just discipline; they were teaching you a lesson.”
- “They didn’t know any better.”
- “Families are complicated; no one’s perfect.”
- “Time heals everything; you’ll get over it.”
- “You’re holding grudges for too long.”
- “They were strict because they love you.”
- “Kids today are too sensitive.”
- “It wasn’t intentional; they were just strict / firm.”
- “It’s in the past; why dwell on it?”
This week, I was at a football stadium running workshops for girls. During one of the sessions, I got to the point of discussing unpopular and controversial opinions I hold. One of these is that I believe a significant minority of women, specifically mothers, harbor deep resentment toward men. They genuinely hate men.
Because these women still have to operate within the social hierarchy of the UK, many go on to have children, often boys, sometimes two or three. On some level, they may unconsciously project their anger onto these sons. They tell themselves they love their children, living a façade of being a “boy mum,” but deep down, unresolved trauma and negative experiences with men affect their parenting. It is not about consciously wanting to harm their children; it is that repeated negative experiences with men have shaped their worldview. Many have had only abusive, controlling, or dishonest men in their lives, and this pain can unintentionally influence how they relate to their sons.
Sometimes, they even justify their behavior by watching the father, if he is abusive or harsh toward the boys, and feeling less guilty because the harm is shared. This dynamic can feel sadistic and painful, especially when those sons later repeat the patterns they have experienced onto other women, continuing the cycle of harm.
Another controversial opinion I shared is that many men, while not necessarily seeking romantic relationships with other men, spend a large portion of their lives seeking affirmation and approval from other men. I suggested that a small percentage of men are strictly heterosexual, while the rest include varying degrees of admiration, closeness, and emotional dependency on male peers. This surprised the girls, but I asked them to consider how much energy men invest in impressing and gaining the approval of other men.
The opposite dynamic also exists for women. Many would prefer to avoid men entirely, having never had consistently positive experiences with them. Yet, they are forced to navigate relationships with men due to societal structures, necessity, and the realities of life. These experiences, whether rooted in trauma, necessity, or social hierarchy, affect how women relate to men and, ultimately, their children.
In the year ending March 2019 (so pre covid), according to the official Office for National Statistics report Child abuse and the criminal justice system (England & Wales):
- Total defendants convicted of cruelty to and neglect of children where sex was known: 503
- 58 % were female
- 42 % were male
This means:
- 292 females convicted (58 %)
- 211 males convicted (42 %)
- The Crime Survey for England & Wales (year ending March 2024) found that around 7.6% of adults reported neglect before age 18, defined as caregivers failing to meet basic needs. In the same survey, mothers and fathers were both commonly cited as perpetrators of various forms of abuse, with mothers often mentioned in a significant share of cases of emotional and physical abuse where a parent was responsible.
- In the year ending 31 March 2024, there were 621,880 children referred to children’s social care services in England.
- Over half of those assessed were found to be experiencing abuse or neglect.
- “Children in need” status means social services have assessed that a child’s health or development is at risk, often due to abuse or neglect. In 2025, 58 % of children in need had abuse or neglect identified as the primary cause. This shows that abuse and neglect are by far the most common reasons children need social care support.
- About 65 % of children in care are there because of abuse or neglect. This means most children who have to be taken into care aren’t there because of events like parental illness or other factors; they’re there because of harm or risk of damage from caregivers.
Unpopular Opinions About Boys and Men
1. Families often abuse boys under the guise of “discipline.”
Parents physically or emotionally abuse many boys, and it’s often excused as “discipline” or “tough love.” Hitting, shouting, shaming, or controlling a boy is normalized in some families. Boys are expected to endure it, and society often looks the other way. This abuse can leave deep scars that last into adulthood.
2. Conditional love is the norm for boys.
Most boys are not loved just for being themselves. Instead, they learn that love and approval are earned: if they behave, succeed in school, play sports, or don’t show emotion, they are accepted. Anything outside of these expectations—crying, questioning, or simply being different—can lead to rejection or punishment. This teaches boys to hide who they really are.
3. Mothers can unconsciously hurt their sons.
Some mothers who have been hurt by men themselves may project their fear, anger, or trauma onto their sons. They can control, manipulate, or punish boys in ways that feel cruel, sometimes trying to prevent them from “becoming like men who hurt them.” Schools and social systems often protect the mother over the boy, leaving the child trapped and unheard.
4. Fathers often repeat abuse.
Many fathers who were abused or neglected as children end up treating their sons harshly and calling it “discipline.” They may believe this is how boys are “toughened up” or “made into men,” repeating cycles of abuse without realizing the harm it causes. Generational trauma is real and powerful.
5. Society actively polices boys.
Boys who show individuality, sensitivity, curiosity, or even creativity are often pressured to conform to strict gender norms. Society discourages traits it considers “feminine” or weak in boys. Boys are taught to hide emotions, suppress their personality, and fit into narrow boxes—anything else is mocked, punished, or cut out.
6. Men in prison often reflect what society failed to protect.
Many men in prison are boys who grew up neglected, abused, or unsupported. Instead of getting help, they were pathologized, labeled “bad,” or pushed out of education and society. Prisons often reflect the consequences of these failures. Labeling them as “evil” ignores the context of trauma that created them.
7. Systems neglect boys.
Education, social services, and mental health systems often prioritize girls while ignoring boys’ emotional and developmental needs. Boys are more likely to be suspended, isolated, or labeled “problematic” instead of being listened to and supported. This neglect makes boys feel invisible and teaches them that society doesn’t care about their feelings.
8. Men are valued for what they do, not who they are.
Society measures men by productivity, strength, and sacrifice rather than emotions or inner life. Dangerous jobs, war, and caregiving are expected of men, while showing vulnerability or asking for help is punished or seen as weakness. This teaches boys to put others’ needs before their own, while hiding the fact that they are human beings with emotional lives.
9. The cycle of abuse is real but not inevitable.
Boys who are abused or neglected are more likely to repeat harmful patterns later in life. But this cycle is not set in stone. With awareness, therapy, supportive mentors, or healthy relationships, boys and men can break the pattern and raise the next generation differently. Recognition and support are key.
Boys and Abuse in Family Systems
A while ago, I was working with a male client in therapy who had endured horrendous abuse from both his mother and father. He spoke with so much anger and pain about his father, the beatings, the threats, the punishments, and yet, when I asked him about his mother, he became defensive. “It’s much more my father,” he said. “He beat me. My mother… it was different.” But when I pressed him, he began to describe the ways his mother belittled him, controlled him, humiliated him, and punished him, not just him, but almost as a way to avenge his father.
I asked him, “Isn’t the emotional stuff worse than the physical stuff?” He paused. “I guess so,” he said slowly.
This exchange made me think about how we, as a society in Britain, view abuse. We are so used to seeing fathers as the villains, so accustomed to recognising the physical violence because it is visible, measurable, and undeniable, that we often overlook the damage of emotional and psychological abuse. Physical abuse leaves marks you can point to. Emotional abuse does not. But for many boys, especially, it is the emotional and psychological wounds, the belittling, the manipulation, the control, that leave the deepest scars. These are the wounds that do not heal with time, that linger silently, often until adulthood.
It is much harder for family systems, schools, social services, and society as a whole to recognise emotional abuse for what it is. The pain is invisible. It shows up later, in relationships, in struggles with anger, in difficulty parenting, or in coping mechanisms like drinking, substance use, or even self-harm. Boys are socialised to be stoic, stern, and to hide their pain. And so much of it festers quietly until it explodes, sometimes harming themselves, sometimes hurting others, because the trauma has never been seen, acknowledged, or addressed.
Meanwhile, girls and women are often more readily understood because society is attuned to their emotions. Their pain is visible; it is validated. Boys’ pain is minimised, dismissed, or ignored. And when men reach adulthood carrying these invisible wounds, society rarely asks, “What happened to you?” Instead, men are blamed for their behaviour, their struggles, their mistakes. The cycle of silence continues.
This is why talking about emotional abuse and specifically the abuse of boys is so important. Physical abuse is easier to notice, easier to condemn. But the emotional abuse that shapes men’s lives, that fuels anger, depression, addiction, and self-harm, is largely invisible. Boys grow up, carrying these wounds into adulthood, and society continues to look the other way.
This is the subject I want to speak about today. Because if we are going to support men, help them heal, and break the cycles of trauma, we have to see the invisible scars as clearly as we see the physical ones.
Boys in Britain grow up in families that are meant to protect them, yet in many cases those same families inflict the deepest harm. In households where one or both parents are abusive, boys are subjected to physical punishment, emotional neglect, and psychological control that becomes part of everyday life. In many abusive family systems, harm towards boys is not dramatic or cinematic; it is routine, ordinary, and hidden in plain sight. A boy is slapped for “talking back,” shouted at for crying, or dragged to his room and locked away for expressing anger. Food is withheld as punishment. Affection is withdrawn for days. Silence is used as control. These acts are rarely labelled as abuse within the family. Instead, they are justified as discipline, structure, or preparation for the “real world” or “tough love.” Creating family systems in which abuse is normalised and endurance is expected. The boy learns early that pain is normal and that resistance only makes things worse. They are closely monitored, told where they can go, what they can say, how they should feel, and who they are allowed to be. Society rarely names this harm for what it is, leaving boys trapped in silence and confusion, carrying wounds that extend far beyond childhood.
Within these families, control is constant and pervasive. Boys are punished for questioning rules, humiliated for showing emotion, and shamed for expressing anger or sadness. Silence is used as a weapon. Affection is withdrawn as punishment. Compliance becomes the safest option. Over time, boys learn that obedience is survival and honesty is dangerous. The family becomes a closed system where loyalty is demanded, secrecy is enforced, and speaking out is framed as betrayal. Have you ever wondered why so many women complain that men do not talk about their feelings? The most common answer men give is that when they do say their feelings, it is used against them down the road, not by men, but by women. And for most boys who do this, the first woman is their mother. “Stop acting like a girl.” “Boys don’t do that.”
Inside these homes, boys are often tightly controlled. They are told what to wear, how to speak, what emotions are acceptable, and what opinions they are allowed to have. A boy who questions a rule is accused of being disrespectful. A boy who expresses sadness is mocked. A boy who shows anger is punished more harshly. Over time, he learns that obedience is safer than honesty, and silence is safer than truth. Have you ever wondered why so many men are unable to think outside the box, be creative, or follow their instincts? It is because this would challenge the entire family system. And you hear it all the time when boys point out the hypocrisy of their parents. They are not allowed to swear or smoke, or drink, or spend too much time on their phones, and yet their parents are doing the very same thing. It creates hypocrisy, and so when they become men, they do the same to their wives and spouses—one rule for them and another for their kids and family.
The love boys receive in these environments is rarely unconditional. Instead, it is transactional. Approval is granted only when the boy behaves, performs well at school, suppresses his emotions, or reflects well on the family. Love is given when he is convenient and withdrawn when he is not. Boys quickly learn that crying, questioning authority, or expressing individuality invites punishment, rejection, or ridicule. From an early age, they are taught to hide their true selves, suppress curiosity, and mask feelings, internalising the belief that their natural humanity is unacceptable. Over time, this shapes not only behaviour but identity, leaving boys feeling that who they are is never enough.
Mothers can play a significant role in these dynamics, often unconsciously. In families where mothers carry unresolved trauma from abuse by men, sons can become emotional lightning rods. A boy’s anger, frustration, or defiance can unconsciously remind his mother of the men who hurt her. When this happens, the response is often not curiosity or care, but fear and control. The mother may monitor the boy excessively, read his messages, limit his friendships, or frame his behaviour as dangerous or threatening. She may say she is “protecting” others from him or “stopping him from becoming like his father,” while gradually eroding his autonomy and sense of self.
In these situations, trauma is often reenacted rather than healed. Some mothers emotionally manipulate their sons, using guilt, fear, or responsibility to maintain control. A boy may be told that speaking about what happens at home would “destroy the family,” “send mummy to prison,” or “break his siblings’ hearts.” If he tries to tell a teacher or social worker, he may be dismissed as exaggerating, confused, or angry. The mother may present as calm, articulate, and distressed, while the boy—traumatised and dysregulated—appears aggressive or withdrawn. The system often believes the adult. The boy, already traumatised, may present as angry, withdrawn, or dysregulated, reinforcing the perception that he is the problem. His voice is dismissed, and he remains trapped within the family system.
Fathers in abusive families often perpetuate patterns they themselves experienced as children. Many were controlled, beaten, humiliated, or emotionally neglected as boys and came to believe that this is how sons are shaped into men. Fathers in these systems frequently repeat what was done to them. A father who was beaten as a child may use physical punishment without hesitation, believing pain builds character. He may justify hitting his son by saying, “It didn’t do me any harm,” or “This is how boys learn.” Emotional neglect often accompanies this physical control. Praise is rare. Affection is withheld. Vulnerability is ridiculed. The boy learns that love from his father must be earned through toughness and submission. These fathers may genuinely believe they are doing what is best for their sons, while in reality, they are passing on unprocessed trauma. This cycle of generational abuse often goes unnoticed, unchallenged, and unaddressed, reinforcing patterns that persist across decades.
No one intervenes. Neighbours hear shouting but assume it is a normal family conflict. Or it is their job to mind their own business. Schools see a boy who is angry, disruptive, or withdrawn, but respond with detentions, exclusions, or behavioural labels rather than curiosity. Mental health services may diagnose the boy with conduct disorder, oppositional behaviour, or emerging personality traits, without ever asking what happens to him at home. The abuse remains invisible because the boy does not have the language or safety to describe it. Crucially, boys raised in these systems are frequently told—explicitly or implicitly—that they must not speak about what happens inside the family. They are warned that telling the truth would destroy the family, get a parent imprisoned, or harm their siblings. Loyalty is enforced through fear and guilt. Even when boys do reach out, they are often not believed. Their accounts are minimised, reframed, or ignored altogether. Abuse remains hidden not because it is rare, but because boys are systematically silenced.
Beyond the family, society actively reinforces these patterns. Boys who show sensitivity, creativity, curiosity, or emotional openness are mocked, punished, or pressured to conform to narrow gender norms. Traits deemed “feminine” or weak are suppressed, sometimes aggressively. Emotional distress in boys is rarely met with care; instead, it is pathologised or disciplined. In this way, society mirrors the abuse that begins at home, teaching boys that survival depends on hiding their humanity.
As these boys grow older, the consequences of this upbringing become more visible and more stigmatised. A teenage boy who has learned that anger is the only allowed emotion may lash out at peers or partners. A young man who never experienced unconditional love may seek control, validation, or dominance in relationships. When these behaviours emerge, society responds with labels: abusive, narcissistic, dangerous. Very rarely does anyone ask what happened to him before he became this way.
In the criminal justice system, this pattern is unmistakable. Many men in prison describe childhoods filled with violence, neglect, and silence. They were excluded from school, moved through pupil referral units, and treated as problems to be managed rather than children to be protected. Each system responded to their behaviour, not their history. By the time they reach adulthood, their trauma is reframed as moral failure, and punishment replaces care.
Education and social systems play a critical role in reinforcing this cycle. Boys are more likely to be excluded, restrained, or medicated, while girls displaying distress are more often offered support and understanding. Boys’ pain is externalised and punished; girls’ pain is internalised and treated. This does not mean girls are not harmed—it means boys are often abandoned by systems that are intended to help them.
Underlying all of this is a cultural message about men’s worth. Boys are taught, implicitly and explicitly, that their value lies in what they can endure and what they can produce. They are expected to cope, to sacrifice, to protect others, and to suppress their own needs. A boy who struggles is weak. A man who asks for help is failing. Emotional expression is tolerated only if it does not inconvenience anyone else.
The tragedy is not only that abused boys grow into damaged men, but that society refuses to see them as victims once they reach adulthood. The focus shifts entirely to what they might do to others, not what was done to them. This allows the cycle to continue uninterrupted. Boys are harmed. Men are punished. No one heals.
Yet this cycle is not inevitable. When boys are believed, protected, and given space to process their experiences, something different becomes possible. When adults are brave enough to look at family systems honestly—without idealising parents or demonising children—healing can begin. Until then, boys will continue to suffer in silence, and society will continue to reap the consequences of its refusal to listen.
What are the primary coping mechanisms or defense mechanisms that boys develop when they have an abusive mother and father?
Boys in abusive homes usually adapt, not break. What later gets labelled as:
- “anger”
- “withdrawal”
- “emotional unavailability”
- “control issues”
- “addiction”
- “relationship problems”
…often started as innovative survival strategies in a dangerous emotional environment. In trauma theory, these are adaptive responses to threat that become maladaptive when the danger is gone. (van der Kolk, 2014; Perry, 2006)
The research shows that boys who grow up with abusive or neglectful parents often develop ways of coping that help them survive at the time. These behaviours are not signs of weakness or evil character; they are strategies to stay safe in a challenging environment. Many adult behaviours that are often criticised—such as withdrawing emotionally, getting angry easily, or struggling with relationships—usually start as survival tactics during childhood.
One common way boys cope is by shutting down their emotions or dissociating. Boys who experience abuse often learn that showing how they feel can lead to punishment or ridicule. As a result, they may appear numb, detached, or unable to identify their own feelings. Studies show that children who grow up with chronic abuse often develop this emotional numbing, and boys are more likely than girls to internalise their distress rather than show it (van der Kolk et al., 1996; Levant & Pollack, 1995).
Another typical response is extreme self-reliance. Boys in abusive homes often learn that they cannot trust others to keep them safe. This leads to hyper-independence—they try to handle problems on their own, avoid asking for help, and struggle to rely on anyone. This is linked to what psychologists call avoidant attachment, where closeness and dependency feel threatening rather than comforting (Ainsworth, 1978; Main, 1990). As adults, these men may struggle with intimacy, trust, or authority figures.
Anger is also a frequent coping mechanism. For many boys, anger becomes the safest way to express feelings, because sadness, fear, or helplessness may be punished or ignored. Anger can give them a sense of control in a world where they often feel powerless. Research shows that this kind of anger is frequently misunderstood as a behavioural problem, when it is actually a response to trauma (Herman, 1992; Mahalik et al., 2003).
Some boys cope by becoming very compliant or people-pleasing, particularly when mothers are emotionally volatile. They learn that keeping the parent happy or managing their emotions is the only way to stay safe. This is sometimes called parentification, where a child takes on responsibilities that are too big for their age (Jurkovic, 1997). As adults, these men may struggle to set boundaries, experience guilt easily, and feel burned out from constantly trying to please others.
Boys may also develop control and rigidity. Growing up in a chaotic or unpredictable household can make routines, rules, or perfectionism feel necessary for survival. Being in control helps them feel safer. While this helps as a child, it can later cause anxiety, difficulty with uncertainty, and tension in relationships (Perry, 2006).
Avoiding vulnerability is another common strategy. Boys whose caregivers have hurt them often deflect emotional exposure with humour, intellectualisation, or minimising their experiences. Men are more likely to process trauma through thinking rather than feeling, which can delay grief or emotional processing (Addis & Mahalik, 2003).
Some boys also take risks or behave in self-destructive ways. This includes substance use, gambling, reckless behaviour, or even crime. These actions can be ways to cope with strong emotions, regain a sense of control, or numb pain. Studies, including the Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) study, show a strong link between early abuse and risk-taking in later life, especially in men (Felitti et al., 1998).
Finally, many boys stay loyal to abusive parents as a survival strategy. They may defend or excuse the parents’ behaviour and blame themselves for problems. This is not denial but a way of maintaining attachment, which is essential for a child’s sense of security (Bowlby, 1988).
Research also suggests there can be differences depending on whether the abuse comes more from the mother or the father. Abusive fathers are often linked with anger, power struggles, and issues with authority or masculinity. Abusive mothers are more often associated with shame, guilt, people-pleasing, and confusion about emotional boundaries. These patterns appear consistently in attachment studies, trauma research, and clinical work with adult men.
In short, many adult men continue to use strategies that helped them survive childhood abuse or neglect. These coping mechanisms were necessary at the time, but they can cause difficulties in adulthood when the original threat is no longer present. They affect how men relate to others, express emotions, and see themselves.
How Therapy Can Help Men Who Grew Up in Abusive Family Systems
At Male Minds Counselling, I understand that men who have grown up in abusive, controlling, or neglectful family environments often carry deep emotional scars into adulthood. Many of these men were physically punished, emotionally neglected, or psychologically manipulated as children, often by both parents. They may have grown up learning that love must be earned, that expressing emotion is dangerous, or that asserting themselves risks punishment or rejection. These experiences can create patterns of distrust, shame, anger, and difficulty in relationships that often persist long after childhood ends.
Counselling offers a space for these men to explore and process their experiences safely, without judgement. In counselling, men can begin to identify how patterns from childhood, such as conditional love, silencing, or manipulation, have influenced their adult behaviour, relationships, and sense of self. This includes recognising how unresolved trauma may show up as anger, control issues, emotional withdrawal, or difficulties with intimacy and trust.
A key focus of therapy at Male Minds Counselling is helping men reconnect with their authentic selves. Many men who grew up in abusive systems were taught to hide their feelings, suppress vulnerability, and perform masculinity in ways that felt safe. Through guided counselling, men can learn to acknowledge and validate their emotions, develop healthy ways to express anger and grief, and rebuild self-esteem independent of approval or control from others.
Counselling also emphasises breaking the cycle of trauma. Men who experienced abuse as children often fear repeating patterns in their own relationships or parenting. Therapy provides tools to recognise these patterns and make conscious choices that differ from the behaviours they experienced. It also supports men in learning boundaries, self-compassion, and healthy ways of relating to women, partners, and children.
Importantly, therapy at Male Minds Counselling is relational and tailored to men’s needs. We focus on understanding the unique pressures men face, including societal expectations around stoicism, strength, and emotional control. By validating these experiences and providing strategies for navigating them safely, counselling can reduce feelings of isolation, shame, and anger, while promoting emotional resilience.
Finally, counselling helps men reframe their identity from that of a victim to a survivor. Men are often labelled as “abusive,” “angry,” or “problematic” when, in reality, many are survivors of trauma seeking a way to cope. Therapy provides a path for men to understand their experiences, take responsibility for their choices without self-blame, and cultivate lives marked by awareness, empathy, and growth.
At Male Minds Counselling, I aim to create a safe, confidential, and understanding environment where men can explore the impact of their upbringing, heal from past trauma, and build the skills and confidence to live more authentic, fulfilling lives. Through therapy, men can finally feel seen, heard, and supported in ways that may have been missing for decades.
Cassim