Yesterday, not once, but TWICE (once in front of my youngest teenage daughter) I had women come up to me and tell me how awful teenage girls are. They were almost incensed that I was actually getting along and laughing with MY daughter. Let me paint the picture for you:
The first time, my daughter and I were in the dressing room at a local clothing store. She was in one stall and I was in the one next door. She would try something on, come out, show me, tell me what she thought of the outfit—too big, too small, weird, cute but would never wear it—then she would go back in her stall, pass me out the clothes, I would hang them on the hangers and put them in either the ‘no thanks’ or ‘I might buy this’ pile. In between, we were laughing and talking through the wall. A woman came out of her stall and stood at the doorway of my stall and said, “Teenage girls are awful (generalization). I can’t even shop with my daughter. I leave her at home. We can’t stand spending time with each other. Just wait until your daughter gets older (assumption)—you probably won’t be able to do this anymore either.” To which I replied, “This daughter is a teenage daughter—I actually have two teenage daughters—and they are not awful, and we very much enjoy spending time together.”
Clearly, I was not her ally in this conversation, but, undaunted, she continued: “Well, how old is she? Mine is 17 and it will definitely get worse by then.”
“My oldest is 17, and she is lovely,” I said.
“No two are ever the same—better buckle up,” she responded.
I glared. She left.
How the hell did she think I was going to respond to that?! Here I am having a great time with my daughter—did she think I was going to turn around and shit on her publicly? “Yeah, my daughter is actually the spawn of Satan and this is a rare good day. Teenage girls. Amiright?” I literally wanted to go home and wash her judgy mommy misery off of me.
The second time I was in the orthodontist with the same daughter. Yesterday was the start of the whole braces process, so I was in the waiting room for approximately 45 minutes while she got all her scans and x-rays and the like. Another mother was clearly struggling with her own daughter at the moment (they came into the office hot, yelling at each other and clearly not wanting to be within 100 yards of one another). Once our daughters were in their respective exam rooms and out of ear shot, she started saying how girls are the worst, she has aged 30 years in the past two years, all they do is fight, she can never win, and on and on. I didn’t have the energy to engage with this woman. I gave her a muffled ‘hmmpphh’ and made sure I didn’t look up from my book again.
Here’s the deal. I feel sad for these women (and countless women like them) and their daughters, and I wish all mothers and daughters could get through the teenage years as loving, respectful members of the same team. I empathize with their pain because for pretty much my entire teenage career, my relationship with my own mother was painful and tumultuous and full of ire and angst. But, I am not going to share in people’s misery and pretend my daughters are ungrateful assholes to make other people feel good.
We have to start looking at this from a different perspective and stop pigeon-holing our girls this way. It’s not healthy for them. And it is certainly not healthy for us. I firmly believe that our kids are mirrors. (Yes, there are extenuating circumstances that would make this statement null and void. But, barring no mental illness, life-altering trauma, or developmental, emotional, or psychological disorders—this statement is pretty failsafe.) What I mean by this is our kids tend to give back what we are serving up for them. If we are a bundle of stress and nerves, they pick up on that and mirror it back to us. If we are authoritative and come down with an iron fist, they tend to exert their own authority (developmentally appropriate, by the way) and mirror rebellion right back at us. If we talk to them with no respect, judgment, and unkind words, they give it back to us in spades. If you are out in public saying your kid is a monster to a total stranger…what are you saying to that daughter’s face? And, more importantly, how does it make her feel?
Parents: Let’s stop projecting and start collaborating. Let’s stop judging and start empathizing (let’s face it moms, we were once teenage daughters, too—we should be able to relate better than anyone). Let’s stop assuming and let’s start inquiring. Let’s stop talking AT our daughters and start cultivating meaningful conversations WITH them. Let’s stop perpetuating this awful notion that it is your teenage daughter that is going to send you to an early grave. I not only have teenage daughters, but I work with a lot of other people’s teenage daughters. They are beautiful, complex, emerging, discovering, trying-to-do-the-best-they-can souls. I view them as some of my greatest teachers—maybe you can start to look at them that way, too.
All teenage girls are NOT awful. They don’t deliberately try to make our lives miserable. And, it is perfectly possible—and reasonable—to have a loving, healthy relationship with your daughters. Start by changing your attitude about them and watch your relationship change for the better!
Brenna and Shay, you are my greatest gifts, and my most humble teachers. My life is better because the two of you are in it. I often say that you two make being a mom easy, and you do—but I have also worked really hard to be the kind of parent I needed to be in order for that to happen. I love how we communicate and respect each other. I love that we spend time together—especially when it is doing things the two of you love (like shopping). I love that, even on the tough days, we can have a civil conversation and work through it together. I don’t know it all, and will never pretend that I do, but I know that my world is a richer, more colorful and beautiful place with you two in it. And, every single day of my life, I try to do right by the both of you—even when it means admitting I was wrong. Thank you for choosing me as your mom! ❤️❤️❤️
XOXO,
Mom