My son has been playing with dolls since he was little. At age 8, male stereotypes have made him self-conscious about it.

• I've been raising my son beyond gender limits, inviting him to play with dolls and other toys.
• Recently he told me he didn't want a My Little Pony because boys were going to make fun of him.

My 8-year-old had been looking forward to this day for months. He'd talked incessantly about the animal he wanted to build, but when we walked into the store, he suddenly changed his whole demeanor.

"Mom, you make a My Little Pony doll," my son began, "I don't want to anymore because the boys at my school will laugh at me. I'm going to pick a boy thing."

My heart skipped a beat.

My son had been in remote learning all last year. We'd seen only one or two of his besties over summer break, so there'd been no apparent sources of teases or taunts. How deeply had gender-defining voices sunk in him?

"You know, toys are for everyone. Pick what makes you happy." This was not the first time my son has heard me use this phrase. I've used varying versions since he was a toddler because his dad and I wanted him to have the freedom to use his imagination without limitations.

I've been in awe of his ability to see beyond gender labels, and I've watched him play with dolls while wearing a cowboy costume — blissfully happy while doing it.

He is in a new age of awareness

I'd hoped my unconditional support would foster confidence that would keep my kid expressing himself freely forever. But I wasn't enough. I suppose I knew I'd never be enough.

This new age of awareness has hit us hard, and now he vacillates between choosing what makes him happy and fitting in. Even if I could manage to lose our TV remotes forever to shield him from toxic male stereotypes, I don't think I could switch off the influence of his friends.

The outside world is shaping his inner world — evidenced by the pony I was carrying.

After our building adventure was over, we walked to the car. Glancing down at him, I wondered if he'd finally outgrown my help. When he was younger, I felt a powerful urge to step in and protect. I'd have words with anyone who challenged the sense of self he was working to create.

I'm finding new ways to help him as he grows up

While I still feel that same protective push, I've grown up with my kid. I know I can't talk to every child in his class about how gender stereotypes are harmful. Clearly it would make no difference to write strongly worded letters to all the advertisers ever — and more importantly, I can't shield him from what he tells himself.

With my protective Mom Mojo rendered more obsolete with every birthday, I'm trying to find new ways to help him remember his heart is his own. So far, I've been taking this on a case-by-case basis. Today I opted to quietly observe and maybe slide into the conversation how he's the only one who gets to choose his likes and dislikes. But I didn't have to.

"Mom, can I hold her?"

I watched him cuddle the pony in the safety of our car. All the voices from school had been silenced — if only for now. He'd found himself again. It wasn't going to be all about my voice keeping his heart open, but all about his.

I'll always be there to support my son, and I'll continue to hold space for him when he needs it most. I hope this will give him the strength to remember his heart when he's out and about in the world.

My mom superpowers might not be enough to protect my kid, but I can be there to remind him he is always enough.