Parenting Insights
Updated: November 12, 2020
Originally Published: July 5, 2010
“Mom, I heard something really insightful today,” my daughter, Lucy, declares, sitting at the bottom of the staircase as she ties her sneakers before heading out to babysit. “When you finally realize your parents were right, it’s the moment your kids start to think you’re wrong.”
I pause, replaying this observation in my mind as her bright smile encourages my somewhat bewildered middle-aged cognition to catch up.
“Okay,” I respond to my teenage philosopher, “if I admit that I’m not at the point where I think my parents were right, does that mean you don’t think I’m wrong?”
She chuckles, her hazel eyes sparkling, perhaps taken aback by my retort. But I feel a twinge of discomfort when she confirms what I’ve been gradually coming to terms with over recent months—that my little girl, who once regarded me as the ultimate source of wisdom, now sees me differently.
“Do you want to discuss it?” I inquire, but she shrinks back from articulating her disagreement and carries on with her day. I feel exposed, as if I’m losing a part of our bond.
At just 14, Lucy has already surpassed me in height, flourishing with the vibrancy of youth while I seem to be dimming. Up until now, I’ve been relatively spared from the typical tumultuous teenage years that mothers often face: just a few slammed doors, occasional eye rolls, and minimal declarations of “You never…” or “You always….” I had hoped this was evidence that my gentle, understanding approach would mitigate the inevitable tensions of the mother-daughter dynamic.
I’ve sidestepped many pitfalls. I’m not trying to constrain her independence or mold her into a version of myself. I respect her space and refrain from criticizing her choices in clothing, hair, or friends. I trust her, and she generally reciprocates with good behavior. Yet, the connection we share feels strained.
There’s a unique transition that occurs between mothers and their teenage daughters, often characterized by a distinctly feminine energy. My 16-year-old son, Max, grew up, recognized my imperfections, claimed his own truths, and moved on without much fuss. Lucy, however, scrutinizes everything about me—from my appearance to my actions, even my conversations and interactions with her father.
Meanwhile, I find myself increasingly in awe of her. She is blossoming through the tangled roots of adolescence, hinting at the remarkable woman she is destined to become. I express these sentiments often, but my admiration seems to go unnoticed.
I never expected to remain her idol forever. I understand the importance of independence, and I’m pleased she’s finding her own path, but I long for some acknowledgment of the bond we once shared—the sweet moments of baking together, crafting cards, and enjoying our favorite books and music.
Now, I feel like the mother who doesn’t quite get it; whether it’s deciphering internet slang like “BRB” or keeping up with the latest artists, I find myself out of the loop. I’m the mom who struggles with the appeal of shows like Dance Moms and questions why she needs an extensive nail polish collection.
“I never thought we’d end up here,” I want to say, akin to a bewildered partner in a relationship that seems to be drifting apart.
Eventually, I hope Lucy will return to me. She will come to understand that she can forge her own identity while still being my daughter. She will recognize my flaws but also see me as a source of guidance and support when needed. I look forward to a future where she knows and appreciates me as an individual, just as I am beginning to know and cherish her as a young woman, rather than solely as my child.
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In summary, mother-daughter relationships are complex and ever-evolving, marked by phases of admiration, challenge, and eventual understanding. As both parties grow and change, the hope remains that mutual respect and love will flourish anew.