Both my sons struggle on the 'dating scene'. Not through lack of choice or because they don't present as adequate choices for girls.

They just don't like threesomes. Or rather twosomes and a few hundred others peering and joining in on mobile phone screens held in jittery female hands.

Like the proverbial needle in the haystack, they seek the one girl not 'virtually surgically attached' to a screen.

They search everywhere; along the stretch of outdoor cafes... at the beach... on trains and busses... at concert halls and sports fields...

That one girl who is reading a book, or dreaming out of the window, or chatting animated, with a friend, or simply walking... The girl who does not glance down every five seconds for notifications and tweets, the girl who doesn't stop mid-sentence to answer a text, the girl who doesn't check in and take a selfie to prove it.

The girl who can talk, and share stories and giggle at the antics of others. The girl who can ask questions, who wants to know more, who cares enough to listen. The girl who can run and jump and roll-over down a hill, and play silly on the children's' swings in the park.

The girl who can walk hand in hand and be in the moment and chase a butterfly and laugh at her own silliness, the girl who is aware of issues and concerns and can have meaningful discussions about current affairs... and about the future.

The girl who doesn't care about others' opinions and doesn't follow trends and stereotypical likes and dislikes... The girl who's not on social media?

Does she exist? They've yet to find her.

LISTEN UP GIRLS.

I've read my fair share of 'lonely' poems and 'dreamy eyes' stories. I've read page after page of 'wishful' tales, where the boy - that one special boy - sweeps you off your feet... The one you can never find in real life because-

Lose the bloody phone! Tuck it away in your bag, set it to emergency numbers only - shut off notifications and tweets and instagram things. Lift your heads up and gaze around when you're out and about!

You're looking for my sons, for any amount of their peers. That's who you're waiting on, that's who you write about and mope about and bitch about... dream about. Only you can't see them, they are invisible to you (one might have passed you this very moment) because your eyes are glued to the newest status update.

I get you need mobile phones, they have their uses and yeah, they're convenient. But life is not within them see? You think life is regular status updates and sharing memes and smiling at photos of cute kittens and puppies... Aww!

Meanwhile, life passes you by. Real, in the moment moments pass unseen, unexplored. Your thousand friends on Facebook could have paled into insignificance if you'd noticed the blue eyes directed your way for thats plit second - only to look elsewhere, as they caught your lowered face and fast-moving thumbs...

...Dylan spent three frustrating months with his last girlfriend. I've probably spoken about this elsewhere but it's worth repeating. She was a nice girl. I liked her a lot. Dylan liked her a whole lot more.

The week they 'broke up', I'd seen them sitting side by side on a bench at the foreshore. He was talking. Her head was nodding - presumably agreeing with whatever he was saying but her thumbs were typing and her eyes were focussed on the screen in her lap.

I knew he'd already had that conversation with her. About how when he was with her, he didn't want to 'share' her... about 'just talking' not sitting mutely shy when with him yet away from him, saying all manner of interesting things over texts and private messages... about forgetting the rest of the world - it could wait surely?

"She's too intimidated by me mum, that's what she said." This after informing me they'd broken up a few days later...

How many times had he reached this same moment, when the girl - struggling to disconnect and failing - blamed him for his apparent disconnection from 'reality'? Too many to recount, and most genuinely liking him but still, unable to separate themselves from all the flittering distractions...

Dylan's a talker, the outgoing, popular guy both sexes find 'interesting' at first sight. He has the ease of conversation, the ability to wander into any crowd. Marcus is the more sensitive one, taking note of feelings and empathising, his measured words full of support, encouragement and trust - he builds friendships more slowly yet what he builds endures...

Opposites of each other but both possessing a shared need to discover a real someone, a girl they can connect with outside of screens and acronyms. I feel for them, I do. They disconnected from all Social Media a year or so ago, permanently deleting every account. Privacy has become increasingly important to them, as has the physical world around them.

This whole recording of every 'life moment' and sharing publicly was one of the reasons for their decision... Often I'd see a young girl and point her out. "What about this girl? She seems nice."

I'd be directed to her Facebook profile. The images... drunken nights with smudged, overly-made up faces out of focus and 'bathroom selfies' in tight tops, angled so the ample boobs were prominently on display, along with the flirty pursed-lip pout...

The comments and conversations, dumping abuse, siding with the 'mob' and belittling other girls, at times overtly bullying; the language foul, unwarranted.

"See? They don't think. They can't see past the need to expose themselves and their views in the moment. It's all about the attention; they try to outdo each other in popularity."

I'd scroll through their few hundred 'girl' friends. Every time I asked "What about her", I'd get the head-shake. "She wears full on makeup at the beach and won't get in the water". Or "She likes selfies too much", and there would be the various poses - one pose really, different skimpy outfits and boobs in your face, make up so thick you could run a fingernail through it and leave a streak...

There were the 'needy', emotional ones too. Openly 'sharing' their supposed loneliness and isolation, posting dark comments - seeking most often some validation, the outpouring of support, the communal encouragement... Feeding off the responses to their posts, a cycle of despair and approval-seeking, replicating day after day...

...When Dylan was fourteen, he asked if he could spend the day at a friend's place. He'd take the bus he said, and return by bus again later that afternoon. I knew this friend well, I'd met the father, was aware of the mother's recent battle with cancer.

I had just purchased a mobile phone for him - his first one. He didn't really need it but I'd figured it would come in useful times like these, when he was away from home.

So he left. At around six, I received a text.

"Mum, is it okay if I spend the night at Kenny's place?"

I had no problem with that. So I said "Fine hon, just text me when you're on the way home."

He returned mid-morning. Was a little quieter than usual but I put it down to tiredness, probably up most of the night with Kenny - since Kenny had a 'thing' for girls on Facebook.

Two days later, I was scrolling through Facebook and saw a photo of Dylan with two girls. This was a month before I'd pulled him and his brother out of High School, so I knew the two girls - both in his class.

Yeah, I was 'friends' with my son on Facebook. He had no problem with that. He was hardly on it anyway, activity only spiking each time he developed interest in a new girl. Spiking because of the girl, trying to communicate enough through Facebook to persuade her to speak outside of it...

Now these two were the 'new selfie a day' sort, both blonde and slim, both considerably 'risqué' in their behaviour, as evidenced by the many posts and photos in my newsfeed.

This photo was taken in one of the girls' bedrooms, three grinning tired faces, my son in the middle. The post under the photo said: "Great night, stayed up till dawn. Feat. XXXXX XXXXX. My son's name! A bunch of love hearts and some other emoticons appearing after it! The implied suggestiveness... yeah.

Sure, I was lied to. Dylan had openly and deliberately lied. As a parent, I faced this for the first time. There'd been the odd small lie in the past but this - this was a stupendous, momentous lie by comparison!

I waited till he came home. Twenty different scenarios running through my head over and over all afternoon as I sought the best way to approach this. I knew my kid. He would not deliberately lie.

I called him to my room. He understood immediately that I knew, merely by my asking this. I watched the various emotions play out on his face: Shock, horror, acceptance, regret, disappointment... I waited for that last one: Needing to explain.

So what had happened? The two girls lived around the corner from Kenny and had dropped in. The four had pizza for dinner. Kenny's parents were suddenly surprised by some friends from Melbourne who'd come to stay the night. This meant Dylan had to go home, as there was no longer room for him.

One of the girls suggested he stay at her place. This is where it went off the rails. Dylan read it as 'sleeping in the spare room or the couch', seeing as she was a girl. He had a decision to make. The two girls teased him. He said he had to ask me. They said that was 'lame' and what was the big deal anyway?

Faced with this - and probably his mind occupied by the new and sudden prospect of his first time staying over at a girl's house - he sent me that text.

The conversation in my room went like this:

"I'm sorry I lied. I didn't know they would do something so stupid."

"You have no balls!" (That's what I said, I swear.)

"Mum-"

"If you had balls, you'd either have called me and told me you were staying at Alana's house, or asked me to come get you. Instead you wimped out."

Oh he'd not been expecting this! An affront to his 'burgeoning manhood' was-

"I wanted to come home."

"Does Alana's mum know you lied?"

"No..."

"She let you sleep in Alana's room?"

"Yes. She said it was okay. I swear! And nothing happened!"

"You wimped out again by not doing the right thing. I don't want to talk about it anymore." I sent him away.

Two hours later, he was at my door.

I drove him to Alana's house. He apologised to her mother for lying to her the night before. He also apologised for not doing the right thing - sleeping on the couch.

She was pretty cool with it, after her initial surprise. My eyes were on Alana, who stood a little defiantly but also intrigued by what was playing out. Her face at first a mix of disbelief and "fuck you", mellowing somewhat, heading more towards "Maybe I shouldn't have, but still what the fuck, lady?"

That same day, the photo was removed.

It was the single occasion in my son's life (still is) where he'd disappointed me. Yet I was never prouder than when he stood in front of that woman (I can be derogatory now because who the hell allows a thirteen year old girl to have boys stay overnight in their room?) Not cool lady. Not cool.

I could have handled it differently. Yelled, scolded him, grounded him - any amount of sanctions as punishment for his 'misbehaving' and more importantly, for breaking my trust.

I chose to attack his 'manhood'. I left it to him to decide the outcome.

Did he do the right thing? Sure, in terms of recognising he screwed up and subsequently correcting his mistakes.

Here's my problem though: Why was he put into that situation in the first place? My mind still on Alana see. Not yet fourteen and publicly bragging about having a boy spend the night. Sharing photos and alluding to... Really?

This is not a sexist observation. I would have been equally horrified with a thirteen year old boy boasting about the same thing. It's the public and permanent nature of this boasting that worried me. I'd seen photos of Alana at various parties, once or twice drunk, swigging from a bottle. Some references to weed and always "feat: XXXXXXXXX".

She chased Dylan for a while. He ignored her. Soon, other similar photos began appearing in my newsfeed. He shrugged his shoulders.

Girls! Think about this permanence! What may seem fun and daring in the moment may one day come back to bite you. I had the freedom to tear up old photos, and in hindsight discard improper or stupid ones. They were on paper, I held the 'negatives'. A pair of scissors and all evidence was gone, never to be seen again. I had the camera and I had total control of what I could show and what I could hide or 'lose' forever. You don't have this luxury.

Every photo you upload, everything you say is public and it's indelible. You cannot later go back and dispose of your youthful stupidity; you hold no such 'negatives' to cut up. What your future self will see is what the world has seen and will continue to see.

How you choose to present yourself to the world at any particular moment will determine many things in your future: Education, employment, financial prospects... and perhaps, the quality of guys you attract. You do it yourselves don't you? You meet someone and then look for them on Social Media, you make decisions and form opinions based purely on what you see there...

Those 'dreamy eyes' you write about exist. Only you will never notice them settle on you that brief moment your head is lowered. Before they move on from you... disappointed.

The 'true' love you seek is out there! Not on some screen, not hiding behind a keyboard. You describe this love so fluently and so wistfully yet bemoan how it is so hard to find.

You might also counter and say "But the guys hang out on Social Media too?"

Think about this for a moment. Guys tend to migrate to where the girls are right? Basic Marketing rule: Get the girls and the boys will follow. They've followed you there and search for you there because that is where you exist!

Before phones, you had to talk. Your hands were free. Your mind was not constantly distracted or overwhelmed by all this 'stuff' floating past needing your immediate engagement.

Try this for a week: Ditch the phone. Just let the battery run dry and put it in a drawer. Life that week might suck. It might be the worst week of your life. You will probably feel jittery and 'lost' for the most part.

But hey, you know the short walk you take every day to school or work? You might hear the bird that's been singing to you for a year now. That's a real awww moment! You might catch the scent of rain soaked soil floating in the breeze... Or you might see those dreamy eyes pause for a second, as the train or bus comes to a stop and someone new enters...

Or you may not. But whatever happens that week, you will have lived every moment of it. With all your senses. The memories created will be in your mind, not on some thing...