Somewhere around thirteen, motherhood kind of changes. It seems like it has been coming slowly, and now suddenly, the way I need to show up for Tatum looks nothing like the way I did before.
Her emotions are sky-high now…whether they’re joyful or devastating. Everything feels bigger and heavier. She feels things about ten times more intensely than I remember feeling them… BUT I do remember how HARD it was to be thirteen. But these are different times.
What I’m learning is this: when she’s hurting, the pain often comes out sideways…..sometimes toward me, and sometimes toward her dad.
In that moment, it can hurt, and it can make me want to correct, lecture, or discipline; especially when her behavior looks “less than desirable.”
But here’s the thing I’m slowly learning (and failing at, and trying again): I need to listen. NOT FIX.
Every single night, Tatum and I talk. And eventually (ALWAYS) it all comes out.
The stories from her day honestly shock me. I forget how mean kids can be, and how subtle the cruelty, and the social dynamics can feel crazy. She’s just beginning to experience this world, and it’s heartbreaking to watch her have to go through it (but it’s necessary!)
My role now isn’t to gasp in horror. (HA!! It’s want I sometimes do!) OR to say, “Well, if it were me…” OR even to jump in with wisdom I think will protect her. NOPE. I have learned that I CANNOT act shocked or give unsolicited advice or especially share what I would do.
Instead, I have to sit in the discomfort and say things like:
“How did that make you feel?” OR
“Wow… that must have been really hard.” OR
“What do you think you’ll do?
I just LISTEN…if she wants my advice, she will ask for it.
Most of the time, she just needs to get the words out and be heard. To know she’s safe sharing w/o judgment.
Just yesterday, she went through a really painful situation with a boy at school. My heart broke for her. And the truth is, the way she handled it was thoughtful and mature. But before I knew the full story, her behavior at home triggered me, and my instinct was to punish first and understand later. BUT that would have been wrong. She asked me about 100 times for A HUG. She squeezed me so hard, and with that I KNEW her deepest wish.
JUST LOVE ME and BE HERE. PRESENT.
I’m realizing that parenting a teen is less about control and more about guidance.
Less about teaching lessons and more about modeling kindness, grace, and boldness; even when emotions are high and everyone is imperfect.
We’re both works in progress.
YET somehow, we are growing TOGETHER.
I love you, Tot. SO MUCH.