Words by Alexandria Mitchell-Pressman

Important Disclaimer:

What follows is a think piece based on observation and not a personal accusation. This isn’t to say all “boy moms” are toxic. I was raised in a household with two brothers and saw plenty of healthy mother-son dynamics. But there’s a growing cultural awareness that some of these relationships cross boundaries. I am also well aware there is a reverse dynamic of this between fathers and daughters. I find them equally unsettling.

It was a Thursday night, and I was deep in my usual YouTube rabbit hole, ignoring the fact that I need a solid eight hours of sleep to avoid being a gremlin the next day (ask my man about that). Video essays and true crime content are my usual drug of choice after 11 pm. That night, I was watching a recap of the Diddy trial when his mother’s statement caught my attention. It wasn’t the fact that she was standing in solidarity with him,but because of how many times she said the phrase “my son.” Sixteen. Sixteen times in a relatively short statement.

It felt oddly possessive, like she needed the world to remember that this man, Sean “Diddy” Combs, was hers. Not a grown man standing trial for his own “alleged” actions, but her baby boy. It gave off the same energy we see in online conversations about “boy moms” and the way some mothers emotionally cling to their sons in ways that blur the lines between healthy attachment and something else entirely.

What is a toxic boy mom?

The term "toxic boy mom" has become a popular term used on social media to describe a mother whose relationship with her son crosses emotional boundaries in ways that are unhealthy for the child’s development and often damaging to others around them (daughters, spouses, future partners of the son). Urban Dictionary defines it as "a mom who is emotionally incestuous with her sons." While the term is thrown around a lot in pop culture, it reflects real psychological patterns.

When I started researching this further on TikTok, Facebook, and other platforms, I was honestly disturbed by what I found. Some of the content (if we’re taking it at face value) veers into obsession. Moms making inappropriate comments about their sons' bodies (even their penises), posting videos with captions like “my son is my first boyfriend,” or laughing as their sons slap them on the butt. Yes, really. On Beyoncé’s internet. “Tell me you’re a boy mom without telling me you’re a boy mom” is the common caption on this type of content.

A lot of people already take issue with how these posts reinforce patriarchal and gender dynamics putting boys on a pedestal and reducing girls to “the other.” But that’s just the surface. What’s more concerning is the way “boy mom” culture romanticizes sons as replacements for adult emotional connections.

When the Boundaries Blur

In these posts and behaviors, sons are often positioned more like romantic partners than children. Moms will refer to their sons as their “little man,” “boyfriend,” or “the only man who will never leave me.” Growing up becomes linked to breaking up. And when these sons grow up and fall in love, the mother sees their partner not as family, but as a threat.This dynamic sets the stage for a hostile mother-in-law relationship, where the mom sees herself as being “replaced” by the new woman in her son’s life.

Emotionally, this puts the son in a bad place because he is torn between being loyal to his partner or his mom. That’s not love; that’s manipulation. Society exacerbates this situation because from a young age, boys are often told things like:

“Take care of your mom.”

“You’re the man of the house now.”

“You’re in charge.”

That should never be the case. Children are not in charge. They’re not tiny men or emotional equals. A mother’s job is to support her son’s development, not to lean on him for emotional survival. A son isn’t a stand-in husband or therapist. He’s a child depending on his mom to meet his needs.

The Pick-Me to Toxic Boy Mom Pipeline

You know the line that started it all: “Pick me. Choose me. Love me.”

Meredith Grey, 2005. Iconic. Makes me gag a little. Relevant.

The “pick me” archetype (now a viral trope) refers to women who base their worth on male validation. They’ll denounce other women, embrace hyper-masculine preferences, and contort themselves into what they think men want.

And here’s the sad thing: when a “pick me” becomes a mother, especially to a son, the need for male approval doesn’t disappear. It just shifts from her male peers to her son. Especially if she feels that her emotional needs aren’t being met by her partner. This can happen because both partners were chosen based on a fantasy. The “pick-me” played an idealized version of herself, rather than being appreciated for who she was and after years of performing this version of herself, she begins to feel unseen and unfulfilled, no matter how “good” the relationship may look from the outside. That’s when the son starts to fill the emotional void. Her son becomes her new source of validation. Her “perfect man.” Her emotional anchor.

What Is Emotional Incest?

Also called covert incest, emotional incest doesn’t involve physical abuse. Instead, it’s a psychological dynamic where a parent relies on their child for emotional support that should come from another adult.

In this dynamic, the child becomes the parent’s confidante, therapist, and source of emotional regulation. This can look like:

Comforting the parent during emotional distress
Acting as a sounding board for adult problems
Being expected to “choose sides” in parental conflicts
Replacing a lost partner, through death or divorce

At first, it might feel like closeness. But over time, the child loses their role as a child. They grow up prematurely, internalizing guilt, shame, and confusion about their own emotional needs.

In the End, Everyone Loses

When emotional boundaries between a mother and son are blurred, no one truly wins.

The son loses his childhood due to being forced into a role he never asked for. He grows up either emotionally stunted or burdened with guilt, struggling to form healthy adult relationships or even understand who he is outside of his mother’s identity.

Romantic partners lose because they are often cast as intruders, expected to compete with the pedestal the mother built. They’re left feeling unseen, undervalued, and constantly compared.

Daughters and sisters lose as well. Often minimized or burdened with emotional labor, they learn early on that their needs come second to their brother’s comfort and their mother’s approval.

And the mother? She may feel like the woman of the hour in the moment but over time, this dynamic breeds loneliness, resentment, and emotional stagnation. Instead of raising a son who becomes his own man, she traps them both in a relationship that doesn’t serve either of them.

Emotional incest, enmeshment, and toxic “boy mom” behavior aren’t just buzzwords. They’re patterns that leave a lasting impact. Healing requires honesty, boundaries, and a willingness to break cycles, no matter how normalized they may seem. Because real love has boundaries. It nurtures independence. It doesn’t demand loyalty at the cost of someone’s emotional well-being.

And while we are all sick and tired of self love being the answer to everything from glowing up to your Chinese takeout order. It might actually be the answer here.

What if more mothers had the strength to stop chasing love and validation from external sources? Would they be able to truly parent their children, allowing them to just be children and not stand-ins for the affection they feel is missing in their lives?

One of the saddest things I came across in my research was how many women saw their sons as a second chance at love. Some even said God gave them a son so they could finally know what unconditional love feels like. But what breaks my heart is that they didn’t already know it. Because they don’t love themselves unconditionally already. While self love doesn’t mean you can’t find love externally, it does open the door to experiencing a life where you aren’t constantly seeking it.

It’s like being at the beach. You don’t command the waves to come to you. They just do. . Sometimes really high, sometimes just ripples. But it comes freely and all you have to do is be there and enjoy the experience. I wish more women would sit on their towels on this beach called life confident in themselves. Knowing they don’t have to do a thing for the waves (it’s my analogy for love) to come to them. How much simpler and softer life could be if we stopped contorting ourselves into roles we were never meant to be, and instead let love come freely.

And while hearing “self-love” as the answer can feel cliché or even frustrating, in my experience, I have yet found a problem it can’t begin to help solve. Love yourself ladies because it’s getting weird out here.