On the emotional devastation of being called an NPC by your teenage son
Irrelevancy in parenting
It’s not a kind thing to say.
To refer to someone as an NPC is to dismiss them as as irrelevant and unworthy of more than passing attention. If you’re not familiar with this particular term d’art, it comes from video games. A Non-player Character is a bystander in GTA, it’s a villager in Stardew Valley (respect!), a shopkeeper in the Legend of Zelda (Link to the Past <3).
They can send you on tasks, provide you with needed resources, offer context and insight, or just add background texture to your otherwise more interesting world.
Just like parents, I guess. 🤔
NPC’s operate on pre-defined scripts with simple, narrow objectives. They are programmed, and their speech (if they have it) is instantly recognizable for its banality. It is perfunctory in the utmost. Players typically tap the requisite buttons to skip through long-winded explication, eager to move on to the real game, in which they are the hero.
(It’s worth noting that NPC has lately entered the chat as derogatory slang used by Trump/Musk types to refer to those who would attempt to impede them. If you stand up for civility, civic mores, institutional norms, the constitution, let alone appeal to human decency, then you are, to them, an NPC. To my son’s credit he has with some embarrassment disavowed the connection.)
The Setting
Family dinner (proudly, together at table). Mood is buoyant, for some reason which doesn’t matter (but let’s say I noticed it was good vibes). Conversation turns to a funny and odd story of how my now 16 and 13yr old sons, some years ago – maybe they were 10 and 7 – were playacting (again, at family dinner) at being proud fathers of respective overachieving teenage girls, trying you outdo each other with the accomplishments of their respective daughters. This sounds offbeat, but by the standards of family life doesn’t even hit the radar, and either way it’s not the point of this story. Stay with me.
As the topic wound down I gave it a beat and said with a sigh something to the effect of, “Ahhh we had some good times then!”
At which point my 16yr old son muttered with no small derision and to no one in particular, more as an exhalation of fact than any attempt to further engage in conversation: “NPC.”
Before we get into the psychological impact of this verbal assault I want to reflect for a moment on why I said what I said.
I can think of three reasons:
I was basking. In the moment. It was funny and good and wholesome. It can be rare to get these and when you get ‘em you gotta savor. There’s a lot of broken stuff, and to be honest family units are not always smooth and easy. Especially in the teenage years. We’ve been through it a bit, HMU if you wanna talk.
I wanted to be a part of it… but honestly didn’t really know how. I mean I genuinely have no recollection of this story (whole separate topic: how entire episodes, chapters even, of our lives fade away. This is some true midlife wisdom fodder for the ages, but not for today).
But most important: I wanted them to acknowledge that we did indeed have some good times! As per point (1), we’ve been through it. That means we’ve heard kids say some things we never imagined we’d have to hear, things that would shake the very ground of our identity as parents. So to have them reliving a good moment felt awesome. And I wanted to lock it in and get them to be like, Yes, we did have some epic fun moments Dad. Remember all the zoos and aquariums? The trips the park? The pancakes? The bikes built, the baths given, the laughs, the hikes, the ice cream trips…Those were all fantastic and amazing things you did as a dad and we are so grateful! You really have risen to the next level of dadhood, far above generations before you, to put love and care and time into raising us, and we want to pause in this moment to give thanks unto you for that, and to honor you.
But as my reverie was punctured by my son’s contempt I had to do business with the truth, as we all must.
Time to be honest with myself
“We had some good times” fits into the category of “shit dads say when they 1/ want to engage in conversation with teens 2/ don’t know how 3/ want to inject some dad-wisdom.
And while I have grace on myself because I’ve reflected and seen my heart’s pure intent, I have to be honest: it was a total NPC thing to say. This is exactly what a Dad-character would say. And while it is 100% accurate that we did have some good times it also is the type of comment that the main character ignores. So in my quest to be an engaging character in my kids’ life I gotta try to avoid the type of banality that’s gonna get me tuned out (even if it’s in love, and even if he’s just giving me a hard time).
But let’s talk about why it hurt
It hurt because it highlighted the increasing irrelevance of my experience and voice in my son’s life. Look, I don’t wanna overdo it. This was a little jab in a lifelong relational wrestling/hugging match. But it pointed to a deeper truth, understood by dad’s and father figures throughout time: our role and influence wanes, and ultimately we are a background character in the lives of our kids. Acceptance and integration of this reality is a critical step for those of us aspiring WHAMMs (if you need a refresher on the topic) who also happen to be dads. As midlife psychologist GOAT James Hollis says: “the child only passes through our bodies and our lives en route to the mystery of his or her own life”
He speaks truth!
if you need a refresher on WHAMMness…
The feeling of irrelevance is a doozy when it comes to midlife, and not just for dads.
If in the first 20ish years of adulthood we operate out of a heroic mindset, where we are the center of our story (THE story) the next stage is much more realistic. This second adulthood when we start to come into contact with limits (bodily, careerwise, etc) and can no longer sustain the illusion that we will change the world. Because we’re not actually the center of THE, or anyone’s story other than our own – everyone is a character in someone else’s story. While this can be especially intense for dads <> kids due to the outsized role dads play in the early years of development, the dynamic can apply to any of us. And thanks to our culture’s obsession with youth the experience of irrelevance is magnified.
Wisdom drop alert!
The recognition that you have lost and can never regain your central role in your child’s life is a heartbreaker. But inside that pain is hidden a key of great wisdom. Let’s read that line again: “the child only passes through our bodies and our lives en route to the mystery of his or her own life”. Yes there is pain in the realization that they’re just passing through. But there is also goodness: the promise of a much deeper and meaningful relationship, not just with some projection of our own regrets and expectations, but with a fully independent person who reflects back to us our own history, experiences, and DNA like a funhouse mirror.
Conclusion: dad things to say and broader implications for WHAMness
We can all agree that it’s kinda sweet when dads say stuff like that. But it violates the A in WHAM: it is not Awesome. It makes your kids feel like you’re out of touch, trying too hard, and don’t know how to talk to them. So for my part I’m going to try to put on a little filter and check myself before uttering some more irrelevancy-inducing NPC nonsense in the hope that I can build better trust and connection by relating to my kids as actual humans, not as mini-me’s in need of patronization.
What about you, how have your kids made you feel irrelevant? Any other examples of NPC-speak? And how do you replace it with real talk?
DNA funhouse mirror.... 😂 ✅
Chris, honoring your ability to move through the hurt and into the deeper curiosity of what our kids say might actually reflect and how to adjust showing up as a parent. You make that part look easy and it's not.
“The recognition that you have lost and can never regain your central role in your child’s life is a heartbreaker.” Ugh. I hate this. But i think you’re right that it’s the way to the good stuff.