There are few moments in parenting that fill dads with dread quite like The Talk. Not the “where do babies come from?” talk—although that’s a solid contender—but the one where you sit your son down, try to explain what puberty is, and somehow survive the mutual awkwardness without either of you combusting into a cloud of cringe.
Let’s be honest: most of us didn’t get a stellar version of this chat ourselves. If your experience was anything like mine, it was either an outdated school video narrated by a bloke in a turtleneck or a single mumbled sentence from your dad while he kept his eyes fixed on the TV. So it’s no wonder we approach the subject with a mixture of fear, confusion, and a vague plan to just wing it when the time comes.
But the thing is—puberty is coming. And your son needs you to be the one who helps him make sense of it. Preferably before he learns everything from TikTok or the kid in Year 7 who claims to know everything because he once watched Sex Education on Netflix.
The Big, Hairy Elephant in the Room
Talking to your son about puberty feels uncomfortable partly because it involves topics we were trained not to talk about. Body hair, spots, voice cracks, feelings, even—gasp—what happens down there. It’s vulnerable stuff. And for many dads, vulnerability wasn’t exactly modelled growing up.
But here’s the reality: pretending it’s not happening doesn’t make it any less awkward. It just leaves your son trying to figure it out alone. And that’s far worse than a bit of initial discomfort.
So, yes, it’s going to feel weird. But if you lean into that weirdness and show your son that it’s okay to talk about uncomfortable things, you’re not just giving him facts—you’re giving him permission to be open, to ask questions, and to trust you when life gets confusing. Which, let’s face it, will happen a lot over the next few years.
Start Earlier Than You Think
One of the biggest mistakes we can make is waiting too long to start the conversation. We imagine there’ll be this obvious moment—like the day he shaves for the first time or accidentally breaks a window with his newly enormous feet—but puberty doesn’t come with a neon sign.
Some boys start developing as early as nine or ten, and changes happen in stages. You don’t need to dump everything on him in one go like an ill-timed PowerPoint presentation, but introducing the topic gradually, with age-appropriate chats, helps take the pressure off.
You might mention something casually—“You’ll probably notice your body changing a bit over the next few years”—and leave space for questions. The aim is to make puberty something you talk about, not something you sit down and “deliver” like a lecture from a visiting headteacher.
Keep it Real (and a bit funny)
Your son doesn’t need a biology teacher. He needs you. The dad he trusts, even if he rolls his eyes when you make terrible jokes about his music taste. So be honest. Be human. If your voice cracked in Year 8 and everyone laughed, tell him. If you grew a moustache at 14 and tried to shave it with a disposable razor and no mirror, share it.
He’ll remember those stories much more than any clinical explanation of hormone surges. And they’ll reassure him that it’s okay not to have it all figured out. That you didn’t. That nobody does, really.
And don’t be afraid to laugh. Not at him, obviously—but at the general weirdness of puberty. It’s a confusing, ridiculous, slightly gross time. Make space for the giggles. You’ll both need them.
Mind the Generation Gap
We grew up in a very different world. When I was a kid, nobody talked about emotions unless they were followed by a punchline. Now, thankfully, we’re more aware of mental health, consent, body image and all the social dynamics that come with growing up.
But it means that you might feel out of your depth. You might find your son’s questions tricky—or come across things you weren’t expecting. Maybe he talks about gender or sexuality in a way you’re not familiar with. Maybe he’s seen things online that are way ahead of where you thought he was.
Don’t panic. And don’t shut the conversation down. You don’t need all the answers. You just need to be open, honest, and willing to learn with him. “That’s a good question—let’s find out together” goes a long way.
It’s Not a One-Time Thing
This is the part most of us forget: the puberty chat isn’t one conversation. It’s a series of ongoing, evolving chats—some short, some long, some barely more than a grunt and a nod. And that’s okay.
The goal is to keep the door open. To let your son know he can come to you with questions—whether it’s about deodorant, relationships, or why one of his friends has suddenly grown six inches taller overnight. You’re not trying to explain everything in one sitting. You’re building a foundation.
You don’t have to be perfect. Just present.
I’m Still Learning
I’ll admit it: I was nervous when I first started talking to my son about puberty. Partly because I didn’t want to get it wrong. But also because it forced me to look back at my own teenage years—the bits I’d rather forget, the things I didn’t understand, the things no one ever explained to me.
But that’s kind of the point. We’re not doing this because it’s easy. We’re doing it because we want our sons to feel seen, supported, and confident enough to navigate a phase that’s baffling for everyone.
And maybe, just maybe, we’ll learn a few things ourselves along the way.
So go on. Take a deep breath. Embrace the awkward. Crack a joke if you need to. And start the chat.
Your son will thank you one day.
Even if it takes 20 years.