By Marie Vakakis
I just finished watching the series Adolescence on Netflix, and like many people, I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. It’s confronting, emotional, and uncomfortable and that’s kind of the point.
As someone who works with families, young people, and couples, I see many of the same themes and patterns that show up in the series playing out in real life. I’ve worked with people trying to re-engage in education after a long absence and with teens who’ve just come out of hospital following acute mental health issues. I’ve supported individuals transitioning out of homelessness, finding employment and building a sense of identity again after tough life choices and significant trauma. I’ve worked with people who’ve been on remand, with court-ordered clients trying to regain visitation rights with their children, and with parents in the early stages of raising babies and navigating adolescence. I’ve seen the system both when it supports people well and when it doesn’t and the impact that has.
Watching Adolescence, I couldn’t stop thinking about the character of Jamie. But more than that, I couldn’t stop thinking about Katie.
Jamie is at the centre of the show, but we can’t forget what actually happens: a 13-year-old girl is murdered. Katie was a child, navigating early adolescence like so many others. She was a daughter, a friend, a student. Her life was taken in an act of violence, and that fact must stay front and centre.
What’s hard to sit with is that this fictional case has sparked more outrage, discussion and media attention than many real-life cases of women and girls being murdered. I can’t emphasise that enough. Something that was written for television has prompted more analysis and emotional response than the lives of actual young women lost to violence. Why does it take fiction for people to pay attention?
And yet, Adolescence shines a light on something undeniably real — the crisis facing boys and young men.
In my clinical work, I see it all the time. Young people unable to name what they’re feeling, unsure how to express vulnerability, and reacting to shame or rejection with either withdrawal or aggression. Families are often desperate for help, but stuck in patterns that don’t allow for emotional connection. Some parents use authoritarian approaches, others are more dismissive but neither is helpful when it comes to raising emotionally intelligent, self-aware kids.
Then there’s the digital world. Most adults don’t fully understand just how much time kids are spending online, or the kind of content they’re exposed to. It’s not just memes and games, it’s misogyny, violence, toxic messages about masculinity, and peer pressure that thrives in secret spaces. The online world plays a powerful role in shaping boys’ sense of identity, worth and belonging and when that’s paired with real-world stress, it can have devastating consequences.
It’s no wonder boys are struggling. They’re absorbing messages from politicians who lie and bully without consequences. They’re watching athletes become heroes even after assaulting women. They’re seeing influencers rewarded for aggressive and misogynistic content. And when this is what manhood looks like, who is showing them another way?
This can’t just fall to mums. It’s not “women’s work” to raise kind, emotionally literate boys. Boys need emotionally available men around them whether that’s dads, stepdads, uncles, coaches, teachers, or family friends — who can model healthy relationships, respect, and accountability.
If the only message boys receive is that vulnerability is weakness, that being rejected is humiliating, and that power comes through dominance, we are setting them up to fail and worse, we are putting others at risk.
Adolescence doesn’t give us a neat resolution, and that’s deliberate. It ends in discomfort. It shows the collapse of Jamie’s world and its impact on his family and the broader societal failure to intervene early enough. It could have shown the harrowing grief and loss for Katie’s family and friends. I think overlooking this was not a good choice. The show is uncomfortable because it reflects back on what’s happening all around us.
There are no easy solutions. But that doesn’t mean we should look away.
If a fictional TV show can spark this level of reflection, conversation, and awareness, we need to use that momentum to also talk about the real stories. The real families. The real girls who don’t get media coverage. The boys who are lost, angry, hurting, and harming others.
This isn’t about blame, it’s about responsibility. And it belongs to all of us.
Because if we want something to change, we can’t keep ignoring it.
Marie Vakakis is a Couple and Family Therapist and Accredited Mental Health Social Worker
