Updated: Aug. 20, 2015
Originally Published: November 4, 2014
My fourteen-year-old daughter, Clara, bursts out of her shared room, her face a storm cloud of frustration. “MOM! She tossed my blankets on the floor AGAIN! How many times do I have to tell her NOT to do that?”
Just from the tone of her voice, I sense it’s going to be one of those evenings. The kind where hormones and perceived injustices spiral into a whirlwind that inevitably pulls me in. I can almost predict the sequence: I’ll start by calmly trying to reason with her emotionally charged brain, which will soon escalate into a ludicrous argument, and before long, I’ll be throwing my hands up in exasperation, probably yelling more than I’d like to admit. I know the drill.
Throughout the years, I’ve nodded along with empathy when fellow parents shared their tales of teenage trials. Yet, I truly believed Clara would be different. I thought my easygoing nature and her sweet demeanor would somehow shield us from the typical tug-of-war between mother and daughter.
You’d think I’d have grasped by now that parenting doesn’t conform to those expectations.
She’s not a troublesome kid—far from it. In fact, she’s pretty fantastic. But MY GOODNESS, the drama! It’s like she reserves all her theatrical flair just for me. Maybe I should feel honored; maybe this is how it’s meant to be. Yet, it’s utterly exhausting. The stomping, the eye-rolling, the sudden transformation into a whirlwind of emotion—it’s all part of the package. The constant boundary testing and incessant questioning of rules that don’t align with her views.
I love her endlessly, but I cringe at the emotional upheaval she’s grappling with. I understand it’s a necessary part of her journey to independence. I do know that.
Still, I worry. I’m anxious that time is slipping away and I haven’t adequately equipped her for the outside world. I fear I might have overlooked crucial lessons during her upbringing. I recognize that teaching those lessons isn’t solely my responsibility; she’ll need to navigate certain experiences on her own. Yet, the fear looms.
I’m scared of her losing her innocence as she grows up. I worry about mean girls, charming but troublesome boys, and peer pressure. I dread the possibility of her repeating my mistakes or making new ones I never encountered. I know I must trust that we’re doing our best as parents. I understand that she’ll stumble and learn, and that even the hardest lessons are still valuable. I get that.
But I feel sadness. I’m saddened by the fact that she’s too big for me to scoop up and comfort like I used to. I’m disheartened by the reality that I won’t always be her shield. I know that one day I’ll blink, and she’ll be off exploring her own life, perhaps forgetting to call me. I’m aware that this is just part of life’s cycle. I recognize she won’t fully grasp the depth of my love until she becomes a parent herself. I understand that.
When I take a step back, I realize much of my frustration with her stems from my own fears, worries, and sadness. Isn’t that where a lot of parental stress originates? I suspect a good deal of her angst comes from similar feelings. Growing up is a mix of excitement, fear, joy, and confusion, and I remember that well. However, I never anticipated experiencing it from this perspective. Now, I see it clearly.
So, when Clara storms out of her room again, I know the routine. We’ll have our argument, she’ll roll her eyes, I’ll lose my cool, and she’ll stomp off. I’ll vent to my husband, hands on my head.
Eventually, we’ll both cool down. We’ll talk and share a laugh. I’ll envelop her in a hug, marveling at how grown-up she seems. We’ll exchange “I love you’s,” and it will be genuine. Thankfully, I know that part too.
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Summary:
Parenting a teenager can be a tumultuous journey filled with emotional highs and lows. As they navigate the complexities of growing up, parents often grapple with their own fears and sadness. Although the arguments and drama can be exhausting, the bond and love shared remain strong and genuine.