“The day went smoothly, and he was such a big help,” my aunt remarked about my oldest son after he assisted her and her husband with their move. This was refreshing to hear, especially since he had been quite the challenge at home lately. Truthfully, I would have insisted he help regardless; however, he had been pushing all of my buttons and discovering new ones, leaving me in desperate need of some space from him.
Every time I tried to engage him, he would interrupt with an eye-roll. Asking about his day earned me nothing but a shrug, and when I requested help, it felt like I was fighting a losing battle. If I asked him to do something as simple as pick something up, he would resist just for the sake of it.
I was yearning for the warm and loving bond we used to share when he was younger, cherubic, and eager to please. This new dynamic, where he seemed to avoid listening to me and preferred to be anywhere but near me, was frustrating for both of us.
Initially, I blamed him for his behavior, thinking he was simply being difficult. He, on the other hand, felt like I was expecting too much from him. I couldn’t help but notice that in the presence of friends or family, my son would revert to his more agreeable self—polite, engaged, and altogether pleasant. It was infuriating.
One evening, after a delightful gathering filled with sparklers and roasting hot dogs, I placed my hand on his shoulder as we drove home. He quickly shrugged it off, rolling his eyes. “Why do you treat everyone else well but me?” I asked, slapping my hand back on the steering wheel. “What have I done that’s so terrible?”
“I’m just tired, Mom,” was his only response before he dozed off.
Although I had enjoyed a lovely evening, his persistent attitude cast a shadow over it. His negativity was affecting everything, from family dinners to his interactions with his siblings. They noticed how much effort I was putting into keeping him calm, as it could ruin our entire day in mere moments.
Then, a memory resurfaced: during my father-in-law’s battle with cancer, my mother-in-law had broken down at the kitchen table, lamenting, “Why is he so awful to me? He’s so cheerful with guests!” Her sister comforted her, explaining, “He can be his true self with you. He’s dealing with something profound and needs to express that with someone who will always support him.”
That moment had been etched in my mind long before I became a parent. However, driving home with my son, it all clicked into place. He was able to maintain composure around others because he felt he could let his guard down with me.
This realization didn’t change my feelings about his behavior. I still want to teach my kids the importance of treating others with respect. Understanding why he acted out around me alleviated some pressure from our relationship. I no longer felt the need for him to treat me like he did everyone else all the time.
Being a child is complicated and can come with intense feelings. While it’s tempting to remind them of their privileges and insist on respect, they often lack a frame of reference for their experiences. We all need a safe space to be ourselves, and I’m glad to be that for him.
And let’s be honest; he does know how to behave when it matters. I frequently receive compliments about his character and helpfulness, which speaks volumes about the young man he’s becoming. So, when he begrudgingly takes out the trash and claims I make him do everything, I’ll remind myself of the compliments I receive and appreciate being his safe haven. Taking deep breaths definitely helps too!
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In summary, understanding my son’s behavior has helped me see that he feels safest expressing his true self with me. While I still strive for mutual respect, I also recognize the importance of being a supportive figure in his life during these confusing years.