The Essential Talk About Teen Drinking

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“So, Mom, there’s this party I want to go to on Saturday night…”

The first time my teenage son blurted that out was during a quick coffee run as we wrapped up his eighth-grade year. Everything seemed bright and cheerful until that fateful word, “party,” sent my mind racing and my heart pounding. Suddenly, I was on high alert: Whose party? Where is it being held? Are the parents going to be home? Will there be alcohol?!

Trying to maintain my composure, I gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly and pretended I hadn’t heard him. I cranked up the radio to drown out my thoughts, even if it meant enduring the worst pop song imaginable.

“Mom? The party?”

I parked the car, switched off the engine, and turned to face him. My partner and I had always emphasized that alcohol is for adults, but we had never gotten into the nitty-gritty details about teen drinking. Clearly, now was the moment to change that.

“Alright, tell me more about this party,” I encouraged.

The host was a friend of a friend, and the invite had been sent out through social media. My son didn’t even know if the girl’s parents would be home or where the party was taking place. I wrestled with the urge to shut it all down as he passionately explained that all his friends were going, and he absolutely couldn’t be the odd one out.

When he finished making his case, I asked the crucial question, even though I already had a hunch: “Will there be alcohol?”

He looked down at his shoes and replied, “Honestly, Mom, I’m not sure, but probably.”

There it was. At 13, my son was old enough to face the reality of alcohol, but not quite ready to navigate its complexities or grasp the consequences of overindulgence or being around those who do. As much as I wish he could wait until adulthood to encounter alcohol responsibly, the truth is many teens experiment—just like I did at his age.

Now it was on me to educate my son about alcohol’s effects and make my stance clear. While my words alone won’t prevent him from drinking, I want him to have the knowledge necessary to make informed, safe decisions. Ultimately, the choice to drink or not is his to make.

I started with the obvious: Underage drinking is against the law, and those laws exist for a reason. I let him know that we will never be the kind of parents who supply alcohol for him or his friends or allow them to drink at home just to keep it “safe.” Cue the first eye roll, which told me just how uncool I was. Fine.

Next, I reminded him that excessive drinking can damage brain cells, and messing around with his developing brain is a terrible idea. Plus, drinking too much usually leads to regrettable hangovers and worse. I emphasized how alcohol impairs decision-making, making it easier to fall into risky situations, like getting in a car with a drunk driver or ditching a friend who needs help.

One of the most chilling points I brought up was the connection between alcohol and assault. Being drunk does not justify anyone’s right to harm or touch you, but it does complicate situations where consent is involved. If things turn physical without your approval or if you want to stop what’s happening, being intoxicated makes it a lot harder to defend yourself or call for help.

Once I finished my spiel, the silence was palpable. I could see the worry in my son’s eyes, even as he tried to play it cool.

“What if I do drink, Mom? What if I get into trouble?”

My heart sank for him. Growing up is no easy feat. Learning to trust yourself often includes some missteps. I’m in my 40s and still figuring it out. What makes it easier is knowing you have someone in your corner, ready to pick you up, no matter the circumstances—even if it means facing consequences.

“If you ever find yourself in a tough spot, you call me. No matter what,” I assured him, taking his hand. “And if you need to say that your crazy Mom is blowing up your phone and you have to go, that’s fine too.”

This was the crux of my message: I want him to know he can rely on me while he learns to navigate his own choices. If we can keep communication open, we’re already winning.

“Thanks, Mom,” he said with a smile. “I guess I’ll think about whether I even want to go to this party.”

“Absolutely,” I replied, relieved he was considering it thoughtfully. “Let’s chat about it more over some Frappuccinos.”

This article originally appeared on Aug. 23, 2016.