In today’s world, where social media silently dictates our worth, the movie “Adolescence” hits hard — raw, real, and undeniably heart-wrenching. It forces us to confront a painful reality. “Are we truly supporting our children, or just teaching them to survive in a world obsessed with validation?”

One line from the film lingers long after the screen fades to black.
 “I am on Insta but don’t post; she is the one who liked me.”
 It’s simple, yet it speaks volumes about the quiet battles many teenagers face — being present but invisible, choosing silence in a world that demands constant updates. We say we care about their mental well-being, but do we really listen? Instead of teaching them to value authenticity, we’ve conditioned them to measure their worth through likes and comments.

Enough of pushing their tiny brains with academic pressure and endless grade debates. It’s not the grades that should shout loud — it’s their voice. When we drown them in expectations and reduce their worth to numbers, they seek unreality — a world where they always win, faking confidence while slipping deeper into darkness.

It’s not the night that turns off the light — it’s when parents disconnect, leaving them to find dawn in the glow of their phone screens. This could be the story of any Jamie Miller walking down any street — a soul lost in silence, waiting to be noticed.

And then comes that haunting moment — the children’s choir singing Sting’s “Fragile”. Their innocent voices cut through the noise, reminding us of the fragility of young hearts caught in a world too busy to notice their pain.

“If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
 Drying in the color of the evening sun
 Tomorrow’s rain will wash the stains away
 But something in our minds will always stay.”
We think time will heal their pain, but some wounds linger, etched into young minds long after the world moves on. It’s a powerful reminder that the quiet ones often have the most to share.

Let’s stop glorifying popularity and start valuing authenticity. Let’s teach our children that being real is enough — they don’t have to perform to be loved. Before demanding they hear us, we must start listening.

“Connection is not about how many likes you get — it’s about who notices you when you’re quiet”

 It’s about seeing beyond the screens and into their hearts, where real stories are waiting to be heard.