“Mama, there’s a party I want to attend this Saturday…”
The first time my teenage daughter, Emma, said this, we were grabbing coffee one sunny afternoon. My heart sank the moment I heard the word “party.” My mind raced with questions: Whose party is it? Where is it? Will the parents be home? Is there going to be alcohol?
I tried to maintain my composure while gripping the steering wheel, cranking up the radio to drown out my anxiety.
“Mom? About the party?”
Finding a parking spot, I turned off the engine and faced Emma. Although my husband and I had always communicated that alcohol is for adults, we hadn’t clearly outlined the rules and consequences surrounding underage drinking. It was time for that conversation.
“Okay, tell me more about this party,” I prompted.
The host was a friend of a friend who had sent out invites through social media. Emma wasn’t sure if the girl’s parents would be home or even where the party was taking place. I bit my tongue, resisting the urge to shut it down as Emma passionately explained how all her friends were going, and she didn’t want to be the odd one out.
Once she finished, I asked the crucial question: “Will there be alcohol?”
Looking down, she replied, “Honestly, Mom, I don’t know, but probably.”
And there it was. At just 13, Emma was already facing the reality of alcohol. While I wished for a world where she would wait until she was older and wiser, I knew teens would experiment, just like I did.
As her parent, it was my responsibility to educate her about alcohol’s effects and share my perspective. While lectures might not prevent her from drinking, I wanted her to have the knowledge necessary to make safe, informed choices. Ultimately, the decision would be hers.
I began with the basics: underage drinking is illegal for good reasons. I made it clear that we would never be those parents who supply alcohol to her or her friends, nor would we allow them to drink at our home, thinking that would somehow make it okay. This earned me the first eye-roll of the conversation, signaling just how uncool I was in her eyes.
Then, I explained how excessive drinking kills brain cells and how messing with her developing brain is a serious mistake. I also mentioned the unpleasant aftermath of drinking too much, including nausea and horrible hangovers. Most importantly, I stressed that being drunk can cloud judgment, leading to poor decisions—like getting in a car with a drunk driver or leaving a friend behind at a party.
One of the most serious points I raised was about alcohol’s connection to assault and rape. Just because someone is drunk doesn’t give anyone the right to harm others, but it does make it more challenging to resist or call for help in dangerous situations.
After sharing my thoughts, the silence was palpable. I could see concern etched on Emma’s face, even as she tried to play it cool.
“What if I do drink, Mom? What if I get in trouble?”
At that moment, my heart softened for her. Growing up is tough, and learning to trust oneself takes time. I reminded her, “If you ever find yourself in a tough situation, call me. Anytime, no questions asked.” I took her hand, reassuring her that she could always count on me—even if it meant blaming my “crazy mom” for needing to leave a situation.
This was the most crucial message I wanted her to take away: trust and open communication are key.
“Thanks, Mom,” she smiled. “I guess I need to think about whether I really want to go to this party.”
“Exactly,” I replied, relieved she was willing to consider her options. “Let’s talk it over while enjoying some Frappuccinos.”