A few years ago, I wrote about the drama and challenges of raising a teenage daughter. Some of the memories are still a blur, but most of the past is still very vivid. In fact, many memories are so extreme that I care not to mention them. For doing so would cause me such emotional grief and incredible embarrassment.
To those of you who are raising teen daughters today understand where I am coming from. You are living the nightmare; I totally get it–and if I could, I would wrap you in my arms and tell you it will get better–eventually.
Four years ago, when I was in your shoes, and I’m still not sure that I’m even out of the woods yet, I would have done or given anything to change the ugly, daily interactions with my daughter. Oddly enough, just yesterday I received a very special gift from her–and it’s not even my birthday!
A beautifully, lined, blank journal with pre-printed prompts with which the recipient–that’s me–should complete. The premise here is that after I have responded to all 200 prompts, I am to return the completed memoir to her.
“So, what gives?” I asked her?
“Nothing, I saw this at the bookstore a while ago and I know you like to write, so I bought it for you,” she said.
It was that simple. Sadly, given our history, my first thought was that this must be some kind of joke. Afterwards, when I was alone and could collect myself from the emotional journey I was about to take on, I perused though this empty diary only to notice one particular pre-printed prompt.
“What was something you got away with as a teenager that your parents never knew about”?
I didn’t need to think hard, but dare I tell her that the worst secret I could recall was getting caught smoking a “cancer stick” in the girls bathroom at school? (This might not be the truth; hence, the “hidden secret”–but you get the point.) This would pale in comparison to what she has put me through, but perhaps at the time, this was my own mothers’ worst nightmare; hard to say as I will never be able to ask her; she has been my angel for the past 40 years.
So here we are, back to the real reason I wrote this post today. A few years ago, I came across a timeline of “mother-daughter” dialogue based on growth. You can see it below. At the time, I was stuck at the 16-year range and thought I would never survive it. But that changed yesterday when I received that precious gift.
So, I say to all the moms who seem “stuck” and might not survive–you will! While it might get worse before it gets better, the only thing you can do is to get her safely to the 21-year-old mark. You have to–and you have to do whatever it takes to get the job done–for the benefits and rewards will be unending.
Dedicated to Elizabeth Malloy; a kind and patient mother. Thank you!
At 6 years old, “Mommy, I love you.”
At 10 years old, “Mom, whatever.”
At 16 years old, “My mom is so annoying.”
At 18 years old, “I want to get out of this house.”
At 25 years old, “Mom, you were right.”
At 40 years old, “I don’t want to lose my mom.”
At 60 years old, “I would give anything for my mom to be here with me.”
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