Apart from the fact that i’ve been one, I now have one. It’s like you birth this beautiful baby into the world whom you love and cherish dearly. You watch said child grow and all of the ways your child develops just leaves you in awe, but then something starts to take place in the brain and you begin to ask yourself where am I going wrong. Welcome to the teenage years.
Don’t get me wrong, there are the days where they will just be outstanding and make you beam with pride, but i’m at the point where i’m being forced to take this thing one incident at a time, hoping that these teen years won’t permanently put a rift between us because we simply aren’t getting each other. I’ve begun trying to reflect back to my teenage years. The ones where I felt so misunderstood. I felt my intentions were good, but then there was my mom who had a better idea, and my dad who pretty much just went along with whatever she just said.
I didn’t feel like I was doing things out of rebellion, I just saw things differently. Not necessarily the way they did. They didn’t get me and I didn’t get them. And now i’m seeing through the eyes and position and heart of a parent. I have these long, drawn out talks with my son, with silence as feedback. Unless of course I specifically request a response on many occasions. Since i’m not met with snarky responses, but actually quite humble ones, i’m led to feel a relief in my heart, that is until we find ourselves back at square one, doing it all over again, having the same talk we (or I) just had the last time.
My biggest fear is that we won’t be “friends.” Not the my-mom-lets-me-get-away-with-anything-because-she-doesn’t-want-to-hurt-me kind of friend, but the type of friend that he can tell absolutely anything and know that my response will be one that is heartfelt and done out of love and wanting the best for him.
I don’t remember the age at which I figured out my parents may have known more than I realized and where I felt trust for their advice but I did eventually get there. The whole been there done that from them was never enough then, and as I reflect back, I still say there are some things where my intentions were misunderstood, but overall they got a lot right, and I realize now that they acted out of love and concern and for my good. My hope is that someday, through the strain of parenting a teenager, someday he’ll look back, and as these others grow and form their own opinions of the way things should be done, they will look back someday as well and see I wasn’t such a bad mom (and dad wasn’t so mean) after all.