Until just a year or two ago, I often found myself saying, "I hate teenagers."

I was one myself not too long ago, and so, to sound less hypocritical, I would add, "I must have been just as annoying." But when I truly reflected on my teen years, I felt pity more than anything else.

As a teen, I thought I was "cool," "rebellious," and all those other clichéd "teenage" things. But only after growing up did I recognise my own cries for help, my denial of feeling lost because admitting it wasn't "cool."

Today's teenagers can articulate their emotions better, yet they struggle, especially among their peers. My niece, on the brink of adolescence, sometimes tells her mother she feels like "disappearing," but it is something she cannot tell a friend lest it makes her seem weak.

Navigating teenagehood is a complex journey filled with self-discovery, confusion, and emotional turmoil. For adults, it can feel like trying to connect with someone from another world. But beneath the defiance and unpredictability is a young person desperate to understand themselves. That's why teenagers need patience and compassion, not dismissal.

Netflix's Adolescence, starring Owen Cooper and Stephen Graham, captures this struggle with brutal honesty. Watching the series felt like a tonne of bricks dropping onto me. All I could think about was my niece and the internal battles she fights every day.

The show's protagonist, Jamie (played by Owen Cooper), is convicted of murdering a female schoolmate after relentless online bullying branded him an "incel" (involuntary celibate). At just 13, Jamie is trapped between childhood and adulthood, desperate for independence yet in dire need of guidance.

Before he can even process his emotions, he is pushed to commit a crime that, to him, feels justified. "I've done nothing wrong," he repeats. Why does he think he did nothing wrong?

Jamie was convinced that his actions were justified, as social media had shaped and skewed his perception of right and wrong, leading him to believe that responding with harm towards a woman who had mistreated him was acceptable behaviour.

His story is a stark reminder of how today's teenagers are left to navigate their struggles in an unforgiving digital landscape.

Teenagers today face challenges far beyond those of past generations. The internet and social media amplify external pressures and internal struggles, making adolescence even more turbulent. Real-life relationships, academic stress, and self-discovery are compounded by the relentless comparison, cyberbullying, and toxic online influences.

Figures like Andrew Tate peddle misogynistic and hyper-masculine archetype, shaping the minds of impressionable teens. Teenage boys, desperate for direction, are drawn to these figures, while teenage girls often suffer the consequences. In this environment of online cruelty and unrealistic expectations, developing a secure sense of self becomes even harder.

This is where compassion becomes essential.

The lessons from Adolescence are clear: teenagers need understanding more than rules. Their desire for independence isn't rebellion; it's growth. Rather than viewing their actions as defiant or irrational, adults must recognise them as a natural part of self-discovery and vulnerability. By listening, supporting, and allowing room for mistakes, we help teenagers feel acknowledged, valued, and understood.

More than ever, teenagers need adults who will meet them where they are, not where they "should" be. It's easy to dismiss a 13-year-old's emotions as melodrama, a 16-year-old's struggles as trivial, or an 18-year-old's frustrations as arrogance. But these are formative years when self-worth, relationships, and identity are still fragile. Without strong support, teenagers can be driven to dangerous corners of the internet, radicalised by harmful ideologies, or left feeling like their struggles don't matter.

Instead of frustration or dismissiveness, we must approach teenagers with curiosity and care. We must have the difficult conversations, ask the unspoken questions, and create safe spaces for vulnerability. My niece already struggles to articulate emotions she doesn't fully understand, and I wonder: how different would Jamie's story have been if someone had truly listened before it was too late?

We can't eliminate the pressures of growing up in a digital world, but we can counteract them with empathy. If we choose compassion over criticism, patience over punishment, and conversation over condemnation, we might just give teenagers the foundation they need to navigate their world without losing themselves in the process.