Today, I had the absolute pleasure of sitting down with Meenal Jain, a name you might recognize if you’ve ever hummed along to “Cutie Pie” from the Bollywood blockbuster Ae Dil Hai Mushkil. Meenal is not just a celebrated playback singer who has lent her voice to Rahman’s compositions and performed for over 5 lakh people at Sadhguru’s Mahashivratri concert. She’s also a single mother navigating the beautiful, messy, complicated world of raising a son with emotional awareness in an industry that never sleeps.
What struck me most about our conversation wasn’t her success or her smile though both are remarkable. It was her radical honesty about motherhood, her refusal to sugarcoat the challenges, and her commitment to raising her son Simar as an emotionally intelligent boy in a world that still tells boys they shouldn’t cry.
As a child psychologist with over 20 years of experience, I’ve worked with countless mothers struggling with the same question: How do we raise boys who are strong but sensitive? Confident but compassionate? Independent but emotionally aware?
Meenal’s journey offers answers that are refreshingly real.
The Boy Who Understands His Mother’s Period
Let me start with something that stopped me mid-conversation. Meenal casually mentioned: “The best part is, Simar has started understanding me physically also. He understands my period timing. And I’m so glad a boy understands that momma is not well, that momma’s body is in that condition.”
I had to pause. Because this is revolutionary.
We live in a culture where mothers whisper about periods, where fathers refuse to buy sanitary pads, where the word “menstruation” is replaced with coded language like “that time of the month.” And here’s a mother openly teaching her young son about female biology not as something shameful or mysterious, but as basic human biology deserving of care and understanding.
“He is very careful with me on these days,” Meenal continued. “As soon as he sees me, he’ll come hug me, press my feet. He knows momma needs gentleness right now.”
This isn’t just sweet. This is emotional awareness in action.
When we teach boys from a young age that:
- Women’s bodies have natural cycles that cause discomfort
- It’s okay (and necessary) to offer physical comfort
- Caregiving isn’t “feminine” it’s human
We’re not making them weak. We’re making them whole.
Boys who understand menstruation grow into men who don’t shame women for biological processes. Boys who learn to give foot massages to tired mothers grow into partners who share household emotional labor. Boys who see vulnerability as something to support (not exploit) grow into fathers who teach the same to their children.
This is how we break generational patterns.
“I’m Friendly, But I’m Not Your Friend”
One of the biggest parenting debates today is: should parents be friends with their children?
Meenal’s answer was crystal clear: “I tell Simar, I’m friendly, but I’m not your friend, baby. You have your own friends. And I’m not going to be your friend for certain reasons. I wouldn’t like it if you don’t respect me, if you cross that line.”
This distinction is crucial, especially when raising boys.
Boys are often told to be tough, independent, and to not need anyone. So when we become their “friends,” we blur a line that actually protects them. They lose a safe authority figure who can guide without judgment, who can enforce boundaries without being a peer competitor, who can hold space for their emotions without needing reciprocal emotional support.
“Every relationship has a dignity of its own, and we should always keep that,” Meenal explained. “But you can come and talk to me about anything in this world. Any topic, there is no taboo, there is nothing. You text me, you call me-‘Momma, I want to talk to you.’ I’ll come. I’ll sit with you. You have 100 questions, I will answer them.”
This is the balance we need: authority with accessibility.
When boys know they have a parent who:
- Won’t judge them for their questions
- Won’t shame them for their feelings
- Won’t weaponize their vulnerabilities against them later
- But also won’t pretend to be a peer who has no power to set boundaries
They develop secure attachment. They learn that vulnerability is safe. They understand that asking for help isn’t weakness, it’s wisdom.
Teaching Boys to Handle Bullying Without Becoming Bullies
Simar was bullied. For a long time.
Because his father is Sikh, Simar had beautiful long hair. Combined with his “very cute face” (Meenal’s words), classmates mocked him: “Are you a girl? Why did your mother name you Simar?”
Most parents would have either:
- Told their son to “man up” and ignore it
- Immediately intervened to stop the bullying themselves
- Told him to fight back physically
Meenal did something different. She built his internal compass.
“I started asking him questions very early,” she told me. “‘Simar, are you a boy or a girl?’ ‘I’m a boy, mumma.’ ‘Do you know it?’ ‘Yes, mumma.’ ‘Do I know it?’ ‘Yes, mumma.’ ‘Then it doesn’t matter what anybody else says. You should know who you are. You shouldn’t get bothered.'”
This is brilliant psychology. Instead of making him dependent on her intervention or teaching him aggression, she taught him self-knowledge.
But she didn’t stop there. She gave him a protocol:
- First: Verbal boundary-setting. “If somebody is hitting you, go and tell that person’s mother and father that their child is hitting you.”
- Second: Physical boundary (non-violent). “If no elderly person is there, you firmly hold the hand of the person, look into their eyes confidently, and say: ‘I’m not liking this. Stop this right here. Otherwise, I will complain to your parents.’ Then you leave.”
- Third: Remove yourself from the situation. No escalation. No revenge. Just firm boundaries and exit.
“All these things started resonating with him,” Meenal said. “Now he handles it very well.”
And here’s how she knows it worked: “There are friends of mine who have girls, and they are very comfortable with Simar. When they’re going on a trip, they’ll tell me, ‘He’s supportive. He understands. If any child is down, he’ll be like, don’t take tension.'”
This is how we raise boys who don’t perpetuate toxic masculinity.
Not by telling them to “toughen up.” Not by teaching them to dominate. But by teaching them:
- Self-awareness (“I know who I am”)
- Boundary-setting (“I will communicate my limits”)
- Empathy (“I notice when others are struggling”)
- Non-violent conflict resolution (“I exit situations that aren’t healthy”)
These boys grow into men who support women, who protect without dominating, who are strong enough to be gentle.
When Mom Gets Angry: Teaching Boys That Women Are Human
I asked Meenal how she handles mood swings, stress, and those inevitable moments when she raises her voice at Simar.
Her answer was honest: “I don’t feel guilty about scolding him when there’s a reason behind it. I try to calculate my mood swings, but if I screamed and I could have handled it better, I would say sorry to him. I do.”
Let that sink in. A mother apologizing to her son.
This is radical in Indian parenting where parents (especially mothers) are supposed to be selfless, patient saints who never lose their temper, never make mistakes, never need forgiveness.
But when we pretend to be perfect, we teach boys that:
- Women should always be calm and accommodating
- Anger is unacceptable in women (but tolerated in men)
- Apologies are signs of weakness
- Admitting mistakes means losing authority
When Meenal says “Sorry, son” after an overreaction, she’s teaching Simar:
- Women are human beings with emotions (not emotional caretaking machines)
- Anger is a valid emotion, but how you express it matters
- Taking accountability strengthens relationships (not weakens them)
- Everyone deserves apologies when they’re hurt including children
“We’ve started understanding each other,” Meenal explained. “He knows when momma is tired. He knows when I’m not well. And I’ve told him: ‘Your momma is always going to be there for you. I love you till eternity. So even if I’m coming back after three days from work and I see things you haven’t done correctly, I will point that out first. You can’t tell me, Mama, you just came and now you’re shouting. You understand where I’m coming from.'”
This is partnership, not dictatorship.
She’s not asking him to read her mind or manage her emotions. She’s teaching him that relationships require:
- Clear communication
- Mutual respect
- Understanding that everyone has bad days
- Accountability from both sides
The Single Mom Question: Where Are the Role Models?
I had to ask: “As a single mother raising a boy, do you worry about him lacking a male role model?”
Meenal’s response was immediate: “No. Because I believe that being a good human being isn’t gendered. I can teach him kindness, respect, integrity, work ethic, all of that. And he has male figures in his life through my friends, through teachers, through Sadhguru’s teachings.”
This challenges the pervasive myth that boys need fathers to become men.
Don’t get me wrong, involved fathers are wonderful. But the narrative that single mothers inherently damage boys, that boys without fathers become “soft” or “confused,” is not only false, it’s harmful.
Research shows that what children need isn’t a specific gender of parent. They need:
- Consistent, loving attachment figures (can be mom, dad, grandparent, aunt, etc.)
- Clear boundaries and expectations
- Emotional availability
- Modeling of healthy relationships
- Exposure to diverse perspectives
Meenal provides all of this. She sets firm boundaries (“It’s you and me, we’re partners, we have to do the best for each other”). She’s emotionally available (“Any topic, no taboo, you can talk to me”). She models healthy behavior (apologizing when wrong, taking care of herself, pursuing her passion).
And crucially, she’s built a village around Simar: “My friends – Himani, Prajakta, Antara, Mauli, Mithila – they all love and adore Simar. Even my mommy group friends know that if Simar’s call is coming, they have to attend, because if he’s calling them, that means Meenal is busy somewhere and what if he needs us?”
This is modern parenting. Not nuclear families pretending to be self-sufficient. But intentional communities of support.
Teaching Boys That Success Isn’t Measured by Comparison
In an industry defined by competition where every day brings new talent, where yesterday’s hit becomes today’s forgotten song, Meenal has learned something crucial: your only competition is your past self.
“I don’t take the pressure,” she told me about maintaining her career. “If your goal is to be a star, that’s the wrong funda. You have to work on your talent, keep honing it, keep learning. Never feel empty. When you’re full with your art, you don’t make much noise.”
This philosophy extends to how she’s raising Simar: “When people ask me, ‘Skills or academics, what would you choose for your son?’ I say who am I to choose? He has to choose.”
But here’s the nuance: she’s not abandoning him to figure everything out alone.
“I tell him: This is golden time. Your fee is taken care of, your food is taken care of. Utilize this time. You have to study and completing graduation has its own importance. But you should also do what you feel like doing. Simar does aggressive football, he’s a musician by heart, he’s busy with school competitions. I just tell him: Baby, I know your capacity as a mother. I know what you can do and what you can’t do. I will never force you to do something you can’t do.”
This is differentiation vs. comparison.
She’s not saying “Your cousin got 95%, why did you get 85%?” She’s saying “I know your capacity. I trust your journey. Show me your best effort.”
When boys are raised without constant comparison:
- They develop intrinsic motivation (doing things because they matter, not to beat someone)
- They learn to celebrate others’ success (not see it as their own failure)
- They build self-worth based on character (not achievement)
- They understand that everyone’s timeline is different
The Message Every Boy Needs to Hear
Towards the end of our conversation, I asked Meenal: “If you could tell your younger self one thing, what would it be?”
Her answer brought tears to my eyes: “I would just give myself a hug and pat myself. You’re a good child. You did well.”
Then she added: “But I would tell myself I could have done more music. I could have been more focused on my art during those golden years.”
This is the eternal tension of motherhood: the what-ifs, the could-haves, the roads not taken.
But here’s what she’s doing differently with Simar: She’s not making him choose between passion and responsibility. She’s teaching him to integrate both.
“I’m not asking him to be first in class, that’s not practically possible when you’re doing everything,” she said. “But I’ve made him understand: Your commitments matter. Your word matters. If you say you’ll do something, do it. And never stop learning.”
Every boy needs to hear this message:
- Your worth isn’t tied to being “the best”
- Pursuing your passion isn’t selfish it’s necessary
- You can be responsible AND creative
- It’s okay to have priorities that look different from others
- Your mother sees you, believes in you, trusts your journey
The Deepika Padukone Moment: Teaching Boys to Respect Women’s Boundaries
When I asked Meenal about Deepika Padukone requesting adjusted work hours after becoming a mother and the backlash she received. Meenal didn’t hesitate:
“She has made her terms clear. If you agree, you’ll work with her. If you don’t, you won’t. It’s as simple as that. As a mother, the shift has come. She’s serious about both her roles. Why is that controversial?”
Then she said something that every mother of boys should hear: “It’s sad that people don’t understand what it is to be a mother. It’s very difficult. And if people aren’t understanding the depth of it even in today’s time, then it’s sad. But you have to do what you have to do.”
This is the conversation boys need to witness.
When they see their mothers:
- Setting boundaries unapologetically
- Demanding respect for their needs
- Refusing to choose between career and motherhood
- Standing firm even when criticized
They learn that women aren’t:
- Endlessly accommodating
- Obligated to sacrifice everything
- Wrong for having needs
- Being “difficult” when they advocate for themselves
They learn that healthy women:
- Know their worth
- Communicate their boundaries
- Don’t apologize for prioritizing themselves
- Expect partners/employers/society to adapt
This is how we raise boys who become men who support gender equality not in theory, but in practice.
What We Can Learn: Practical Takeaways
After spending time with Meenal, here’s what I’m taking away for every parent raising boys:
1. Normalize female biology. Don’t hide periods, pregnancy, menopause. Teach boys that women’s bodies are not shameful mysteries but biological realities deserving of care and understanding.
2. Teach emotional vocabulary early. “I’m feeling frustrated.” “That hurt my feelings.” “I need some quiet time.” Boys who can name emotions don’t have to act them out through aggression or withdrawal.
3. Model apologies and accountability. When you mess up, say so. “I yelled at you because I was stressed, not because you deserved it. I’m sorry.” This teaches that everyone makes mistakes and everyone owes amends.
4. Build their internal compass. Instead of always fixing problems for them, ask: “What do you think you should do?” “How does that make you feel?” “What matters to you here?” They need to learn to trust their own judgment.
5. Create a village. Single parent, married couple, doesn’t matter no one can raise a child alone. Identify the aunties, uncles, friends, mentors who can love and guide your son alongside you.
6. Let them see you pursue your passions. Meenal sings, meditates, posts on social media, performs at concerts and Simar sees all of it. He’s learning that mothers are full human beings with dreams, not just caretakers.
7. Teach empathy through experience. When Simar sees a friend struggling, his instinct is to help. This didn’t happen by accident, it happened because Meenal consistently showed him what empathy looks like.
The Final Truth: You’re Allowed to Be Human
As we wrapped up, Meenal left me with this: “Motherhood is so beautiful and so all-encompassing that it can hijack your entire life. But you’re something other than a mother also, and we shouldn’t forget that. Being friends with yourself the moment we stop doing that, we start expecting others to understand us. And others will never fully understand.”
She’s right. And this applies especially to raising boys.
If we martyr ourselves, if we erase our needs, if we model endless self-sacrifice we teach boys that women exist to serve. We teach them that mothers have no limits, no breaking points, no inner lives that matter.
But when we show them that:
- Mothers need rest
- Mothers have feelings
- Mothers deserve respect
- Mothers are allowed to change their minds
- Mothers can be imperfect and still be enough
We give them permission to see women as fully human. And in turn, to see themselves as fully human too entitled to emotions, worthy of support, capable of both strength and tenderness.