What Today’s Teens Get Right About Growing Up

All school dances are awkward. But possibly none in history were as cringey as middle school dances in the 1990s. When the lights dimmed and Boyz II Men started crooning “I’ll Make Love to You,” you prayed someone would ask you to dance. But not just anyone — maybe the hottie who sat behind you in third period English class. Or the cute boy from the bus stop who listened to emo on his Discman. Our teenage agenda included huddling with friends in the corner of the gym while plotting our plan for the next slow song. 

And mostly, it didn’t go according to plan. 

Bar and bat mitzvahs were no different. You showed up for the fun, to celebrate a friend with games and prizes, energized songs like “Y.M.C.A.” by Village People and “Conga” by Miami Sound Machine. With a Hawaiian lei around your neck and an inflatable guitar in hand, you danced until the beat faded and the room softened to an uncomfortable hush. If all went well, the slow songs passed quickly. 

When ‘90s girls sent invitations for their bat mitzvahs, they purposefully invited some boys to balance out the dance floor, and vice versa. The DJ was bound to play “You’re Still the One” and couples paired off quickly, leaving stragglers to fend for themselves. When the Coke and Pepsi game began, you tried to line up with your crush so you could run straight into their arms repeatedly (a girl can dream!). 

Flash forward to now 

When it came time to plan my son’s bar mitzvah, and attend these celebrations for our friends’ kids, I never imagined they’d be so different from when I was a teen. In the ‘90s, being invited to as many mitzvahs as possible was the goal, and if you were invited to those of the opposite sex, you were golden (or by today’s standards, you had “drip”). 

“But I don’t have many guy friends,” I lamented at 13 as I wrote down the names of a few boys I’d said a couple of words to at school that week. Struggling to finalize the invitation list, I felt as though something was wrong with me. I worried my dance floor would lack the expected boy-to-girl ratio, further highlighting my already gawky middle-school vibe. While I should have been celebrating, I was worrying my image was being destroyed by the imbalance of my social group. 

Three decades later, the same conversation unfolded in our home, only this time I was in the parent seat. “You’ll want some girls there,” I tried to convince my son of his bar mitzvah party. “There will be slow dances and games, and you’ll regret it if you don’t invite them. Trust me,” I promised as I unthinkingly repeated the same words I’d heard at 13. 

What I wasn’t thinking about then — and didn’t understand as a teen — is that it’s normal at 13 to not yet have friends of the opposite sex. It was okay for tween me to just want to be surrounded by my girlfriends. But it wasn’t until my son’s bar mitzvah this past November that I finally and fully understood this, because society’s expectations had been drowning out the quiet truth. 

My son was the first of his friends to throw a coming-of-age celebration and I thought I was giving him appropriate advice. My awkward 13-year-old self wanted to guide him from my own experiences, to prepare him for these unprecedented moments so he could avoid the discomfort I remember all too well. 

But as I soon discovered, teenhood has changed, and in some ways, for the better. 

My son had other plans, and it seems most middle schoolers today do, too. The days of teen slow dances are gone, but it’s not simply due to the downfall of slow jams. Teens are recognizing their desire to prolong their childhood and resisting the encouragement to socialize with the opposite sex. The embarrassing and forced communication between boys and girls has finally been delayed. And I love this for them. 

Delaying these types of interactions gives teens a chance to mature so they are more prepared for the inevitable coed conversations and situations. It sends the message that it’s okay to focus on friendship and self-awareness, growing until they’re prepared to navigate the complexities of romantic relationships. 

On my son’s big day, his bros surrounded him on the dance floor, jumping in unison to “My House” by Flo Rida. There were no slow dances. No awkward questions or interactions. The evening was about my son and his friends living it up together — and it was everything the ‘90s wasn’t. The stress we once felt from societal expectations had dissolved. 

Teenhood is now focused on friendship and having fun. The rest is waiting patiently in the future.

As we attended other mitzvahs, I noticed a trend. In 2025, bar mitzvahs are a time for the guys to fill the dance floor, jump to FE!N, and compare who has more rizz in their suits and ties. Girls at bat mitzvahs are celebrating being young and free and wearing the sparkliest dress-sneaker combo they can find. Teenhood is now focused on friendship and having fun. The rest is waiting patiently in the future. 

These celebrations are only moments of the fleeting teenhood years, but they provide a glimpse into the mindset of 13-year-olds today. From where I stand, it looks pristine. Forget the slow dances and forced conversations about who likes who. Our children have their entire lives to flirt, date, and to worry about relationships and every stressor that comes with them. Finally, friendship comes first. 

I often wish my boys could grow up in the ‘90s — but this they got right!