Be brave, boys

THE film Brave, that celebration of female empowerment, has all the girls flocking. And the males in it?

Stereotypically ridiculous, hot-headed, thuggish, unknowing. Boys get such a hard rap now. It feels like our Western world is in such an uneasy stage of transition in terms of interaction between the sexes; we're out of balance, trying to work out just how to exist alongside the opposite sex in all its baffling complexity. Still grappling with the seismic shock of feminism and the Pandora's box it opened for us.

I celebrate the young men in my life. Yes, they're regular rough and tumble boys who love their Nerf guns and footy, but they also stack the dishwasher and cook and have sensitive, questing conversations about relationships, grown-ups, life. That's what mothers today are teaching their boys, these complex, tender, open and lovely young men who have us roaring with laughter. We can't wait to see how this generation will grow up, how they'll treat women, change the world. But we worry for them too. May they never be crushed, by women most of all, those mocking attitudes increasingly on show in blockbusters such as Brave. A while back I wrote a column for goddaughters and many readers asked if I'd do a similar one for boys. So here it is ... little lamplights of observation for those beautiful, shining boys in our lives.

May you have the soldering fellowship of good, reliable mates. Never be afraid to speak out if you're not happy - real mates will support you. Never underestimate the healing power of a "man hug"; there's no greater bonding signal. Keep your head pulled in; tell your friends to pull theirs in too if need be. Impulsive behaviour is often not the best; thoughtful action gives you leeway to find a better way. And remember, a gentleman always does the kind thing.

May you never clamp down, shut off, slink away into grumpiness. We women see some little boys bursting with light and spark and life, and then something happens, we're not quite sure what; a retreat into sullenness, inarticulateness; the brightness dampened as life chips away at them.

May you have the gift of a male mentor who's not your parent; someone who filters advice you're getting from friends, who steers you through those days of self-doubt and indecision.

I wish you'd read as much as you play computer games. Lift up that beautiful head of yours, gulp the world. Travel. Pick a footy team and stick with it. I wish you the joy of a physical sport so you learn to be as tough as nails on the field as it prepares you for the great journey ahead - and teaches you that getting knocked down is all part of life and getting up again is the real challenge.

I wish you a sense of self that's comfortable rather than conformational. Don't be afraid of eschewing convention. Don't cover up your fears with base, herd-like behaviour. Have the courage to be different - for you may find that by your actions you lead by example and give boys around you someone to follow, to look up to. Don't be afraid to be vulnerable. It's a close cousin to honesty and people always respond to the truth. Your real self will always know its false opposite; don't succumb to it.

I wish you discipline. Self-control. From that comes great achievements. I wish you the ability to love and to articulate it. Take risks. Have fun. Laugh a lot. Don't be afraid to sing. And finally, remember that little boy you once were. May you never, entirely, grow up. Never lose that joy that sings through you as you arc across a creek on a tyre, skateboard down a path, whoosh through the surf on a boogie board. All the women who cherish you are looking at it - their hearts in their mouths - but giggling at the sheer, lovely, crazy, life-affirming beauty of it. Wanting you to retain something of it, forever.