Pero ya va, perdón si te estoy confundiendo, porque este cuadro de ternura tiene un contraste fascinante. Gabo ha desarrollado una personalidad tan magnética como indescifrable que a veces me hace sentir que vivo con un personaje de serie británica de época. Tiene esa mirada intensa, gélida y una seriedad imperturbable que me recuerda demasiado al actor Cillian Murphy en sus papeles más icónicos.

Es un espectáculo digno de ver en las reuniones familiares: mientras todos soltamos la carcajada por algún chiste, un comentario o una anécdota, él permanece ahí, con su "póker face" nivel experto, analizando el entorno con una madurez que a ratos asombra. No es que sea maleducado, es que su honestidad es radical; si algo no le genera una gracia genuina, simplemente no se molesta en fingir una sonrisa por cortesía social.

Esa autenticidad brutal, aunque a veces resulte incómoda para los tíos o primos que esperan la reacción típica, es algo que en el fondo admiro profundamente. Es un chico solitario por elección, de pocos pero leales amigos, que prefiere la calidad de un vínculo real al ruido vacío de la multitud. Esa misma agudeza visual, esa mirada de "Thomas Shelby", la aplica para diseccionar su realidad familiar con una precisión de cirujano.

A esta edad, los chamos ya no solo escuchan lo que les decimos, sino que procesan cada una de nuestras acciones y las comparan con el discurso. Gabo ha empezado a mostrar un rechazo silencioso hacia su papá, y aunque como madre me genera sentimientos encontrados verlo alejarse emocionalmente de él, entiendo perfectamente el origen de ese muro.

Él observa en primera fila cómo yo, aun estando desempleada y haciendo malabares constantes, muevo cielo y tierra para que no le falte absolutamente nada, mientras que del otro lado lo único que llega son excusas sobre la falta de presupuesto o proyectos de remodelación que nunca terminan de concretarse.

Mi hijo lo mastica pero no lo traga; a los 16 años, la lealtad no se compra con promesas, se construye con presencia y responsabilidad. Él sabe perfectamente quién está en la trinchera aguantando los chaparrones con él y quién se quedó cómodamente en el banquillo de las explicaciones. Ese distanciamiento no es rebeldía gratuita ni malcriadez, es su forma silenciosa de proteger mi esfuerzo y de honrar la estabilidad que, a punta de pulmón, mantenemos en casa.

Y claro, para mantener ese motor de 16 años funcionando, hace falta combustible, ¡y en cantidades industriales! Verlo devorar platos enteros con una voracidad que desafía las leyes de la física, todo esto mientras mantiene su estampa de galán de cine serio, es una de las escenas más cómicas y surrealistas de mi rutina diaria.

Me las ingenio como una verdadera estratega de guerra para que esa fuerza que gasta en el kárate y en su propio crecimiento se mantenga al máximo, transformando lo poco o mucho que tenemos en banquetes que calmen su apetito insaciable. Al final de la jornada, entre su seriedad de actor de Hollywood, su apetito voraz y su rechazo absoluto a todo lo que huela a falso, me quedo con el Gabo que rompe el personaje por un segundo, se acerca, me abraza y me confirma con un gesto que vamos por el camino correcto.

Quizás no sea el adolescente de los libros de psicología, pero es exactamente la persona que me inspira a seguir adelante, con la frente en alto y el corazón tranquilo.

They say that when children turn 15 or 16, we parents must prepare for a sort of emotional "exile" within our own home. You are warned about dramatic door slams, monosyllabic silences that feel like concrete walls, and that air of hormonal mystery that invades every hallway.

However, my experience with Gabo has torn down all the manuals of conventional adolescence. At nearly 16, he remains that safe harbor who drops an "I love you" with a naturalness that leaves me defenseless; someone who gifts me his attention without me having to beg for it and who, despite bubbling hormones, has chosen to be my best ally rather than my judge.

He isn't the typical teenager living isolated in a bubble of apathy; with him, communication flows with a transparency I appreciate every day especially in these times where technology seems to build glass walls while keeping us hypnotized in front of a screen.

But wait and forgive me if I'm confusing you, because this picture of tenderness has a fascinating contrast. He has developed a personality as magnetic as it is indecipherable, sometimes making me feel like I’m living with a character from a British period drama. He possesses that intense, cold gaze and an unshakable seriousness that reminds me so much of actor Cillian Murphy in his most iconic roles.

It’s a sight to behold at family gatherings: while we all burst out laughing at some joke, comment, or anecdote, he stays right there with his expert-level "poker face," analyzing the environment with a maturity that is sometimes astounding. It’s not that he’s being rude; it’s that his honesty is radical. If something doesn't generate genuine amusement, he simply doesn't bother to fake a smile for social politeness.

That brutal authenticity, although it may sometimes be uncomfortable for aunts, uncles, or cousins who expect a typical reaction, is something I deeply admire at my core. He is a boy who is solitary by choice, with few but loyal friends, preferring the quality of a real bond over the empty noise of the crowd. That same visual sharpness that "Thomas Shelby" gaze is what he uses to dissect his family reality with surgical precision.

At this age, kids don't just listen to what we say; they process every single one of our actions and weigh them against our words. Gabo has begun to show a silent rejection toward his father, and although as a mother it gives me mixed feelings to see him emotionally distancing himself, I perfectly understand the origin of that wall.

He has a front-row seat to see how I—even while unemployed and constantly juggling—move heaven and earth to ensure he lacks for nothing, while from the other side, the only things that arrive are excuses about budget shortages or renovation projects that never actually materialize.

My son chews on it but won't swallow it; at 16, loyalty isn't bought with promises; it's built with presence and responsibility. He knows exactly who is in the trenches weathering the storms with him and who stayed comfortably on the sidelines of explanations. This distancing isn't mindless rebellion or rudeness; it's his silent way of protecting my effort and honoring the stability we maintain at home through sheer grit and sacrifice.

And of course, to keep that 16-years old engine running, fuel is needed in industrial quantities! Watching him devour entire plates with a voracity that defies the laws of physics, all while maintaining his serious movie-star demeanor, is one of the most comical and surreal scenes of my daily routine.

I manage like a true war strategist to ensure that the energy he spends on karate and his own growth stays at its peak, transforming the little or much we have into banquets that soothe his insatiable appetite. At the end of the day, between his Hollywood-actor seriousness, his ravenous appetite, and his absolute rejection of anything that smells fake, I am left with the Gabo who breaks character for a second, comes close, hugs me, and confirms with a single gesture that we are on the right path.

He might not be the teenager from the psychology textbooks, but he is exactly the person who inspires me to keep moving forward, with my head held high and my heart at peace.