Dear Teenage Daughter Of Mine,
I’ve given it a lot of thought and I’ve decided that we can’t be friends.
It’s not me. It’s you.
You help me understand why some animals eat their young.
When you were born you were exceptionally adorable, far surpassing the adorableness of the other babies born that day. I’m sure the other mothers looked at their newborns that day with great disappointment. You were such a good baby. You took long naps so that I could get a break, you slept all night in your own bed. You ate anything, which made me feel superior to the other moms complaining about their picky eaters. You were independent and had a desire to do things on your own. You took crap from no one, even as a toddler. When the sweet old man from church would touch your hand and smile at you, you would respond by pulling your hand back and throwing a ‘go to hell, go straight to hell’ look at him. You were so cute though that he would just laugh and try again next week. You were pretty perfect, actually. I had high hopes for you.
Now you are a teenager and at only 14 years old, you are equipped with a super model body and killer eye lashes. You draw attention of older boys because you don’t look a day younger than 17. This is not fair to me, being that I’m a full 7 inches shorter and 15 pounds heavier than you. You are still very strong willed, smart, creative and totally hilarious. You still will on occasion shoot a death glare at anyone talking to you whom you are not fond of (it’s something we are working on). However, none of this is why we can’t be friends.
You have turned from a sweet wide eyed little girl who loved zoo animals and American Girl dolls into a hormonal, irrational, emotional teenager. I have to strategize how I’m going to approach you about topics I fear may set you off, like trying to tell you that the wait at Olive Garden is too long and we are going to have to find a plan b restaurant to eat. When you are hungry you are especially scary. Full disclosure, you get that honestly. You may have inherited that trait. You bounce back and forth from being a child to being a fun loving, energetic teenager to being an immature adult. This is why we can’t be friends. People have warned me about this teenager thing, but I didn’t believe them….not my baby. Turns out they were on to something.
We can’t be friends because you need my help to survive your teen years and become an adult who people don’t avoid at parties.
Right now you don’t really need the other half of my BFF heart necklace. You need a mom.
When we argue because you have decided to wear your new fall outfit that includes an adorbs boho top layered with a long cardigan and skinny jeans with ankle boots on a day in early September when the weather forecast calls for a humid 92 degrees I am reminded that while you may not like me, you need me. Literally, need me to save you from heat stroke on the bus.
When you roll your eyes at me and mumble something hateful under your breath as you walk out of the room because I won’t allow you to ride in a car with the 16 year old boy you are crushing on I can see your innocence and how short sighted you are right now. You don’t see all the life altering consequences that can come from it, but I can so I’m willing to let you treat me like I’m the one being unrealistic in the matter.
When we are on a paradise beach vacation where everything seems perfect, yet when one little thing doesn’t go your way you curl up those long legs into a ball so that you can get in my lap and nuzzle into my chest to cry I’m yet again reminded that even though you are getting closer to being grown, you are still a child. You need me.
Let’s be honest. You have friends. I have friends. We don’t need to be each other’s friend right now. I make you insane with all my dumb rules and frankly you aren’t always a peach to live with either.
Never mistake my determination that we can’t be friends as a lack of love. I’ve prayed for you since the moment I discovered I was pregnant. Every day. My prayers have shifted as life has shifted. I used to pray that you would sleep well at night in your crib. I prayed that your diaper rash would clear up. I prayed that you wouldn’t get too hysterical over the shots you were going to get at the doctor’s office. I prayed for your self-esteem as you went through that awkward phase of snaggled teeth and crooked glasses. I prayed that your 1st day of high school this year would go great. Daily, I pray for your health, your safety, that you will make wise decisions and that you won’t get involved with the wrong crowd. I pray that as you edge closer to those dating years that you will know a douche bag when you see one. I pray that you will find a balance between confidence and humility.
It’s hard for you to understand and I don’t expect that you will ever fully understand until you have children of your own how deep my love is for you. You are the best part of me and your dad. You and your brother are the beat in our hearts. When you hurt, we hurt. It’s our job to raise you to be an adult who is kind, responsible, respects herself and shows respect to others. We want to send you out into the world as ready as you can be for what life will throw at you. We want you to be fierce and strong.
As it turns out, to fulfill that mission, this love I have for you is not well received all the time. It sucks and I wish it wasn’t that way, but I have hope it won’t last forever. It’s okay that you don’t always like me or think I’m cool.
So when you yell at me to come into your room to curl your hair in the mornings, complain about how it looks afterwards, ask me to iron your shirt, make you some breakfast then on the way to school remind me of a 3 page form I need to complete before I drop you off at school or you won’t be able to attend the field trip I knew nothing about, I will take a deep breath and do it.
Because I love you.
Also because I have been praying to God that you will have a daughter exactly like you one day. That, in itself, will be the reward I need to make this all worth it.
I hope you understand. Don’t take it personally.
Wow, thank you for this. My husband sent it to me last week and I didn’t have time to read it. I was shuttling my daughter from place to place while she trolled around Instagram. These are my thoughts and feelings exactly. Although my daughter is only 12 she has been plagued with Tween-tude for some time, I dread the actually teen years. I look forward to the time when I can be friends with my daughter as I am sure you do to. Have you shown this to her? I am printing it and saving it.
Michele – Thanks for reading! Yes, my daughter read this….and rolled her eyes. Happy Holidays to you and your tween!
I LOVE this! Said perfectly!!! Mine are now 40 and 44. We are best friends! Keep up the good work. I just roared as I read this. It is so fun to look at it from down the road a ways. Hugs. (PS the 40 year old has a 16 year old daughter, pay back time is getting close to over.)
40 and 44? I may need to call you for parenting advice. You are way ahead of me! Congrats on having survived it!
My daughter was exactly like this at that age. Now she is 21 and has a bit more respect and understanding of who we are! I am not her friend, but her mom always, she confides in me , but still is very private, which I must respect! She has her life and I have mine! We love each other but also have respect for each other’s privacy! When she asked me questions about who,I was talking to and what is was about, I tell her it’s not you business to know everything about me or your father. If I ask her a question she doesn’t want to answer, I leave it
at that? We love each other deeply, but I am her mom now, not her friend!
Thank you for sharing this hilarious but touching piece on teen daughters. I have 2, one is 15 and the other is 18. This described them to a tee!
This applies to Sons as well. Boys are just as hormonal as girls. I have 17 and 14 year old boys at home now. And this is a Wild ride !
I have a 32 year old son who I thought was pretty much perfect all these years, until about 5 years ago.
A couple years ago he finally contacted me after not speaking to me, when he introduced me to his 3 month old son. They (he and his girlfriend) told me that they wanted me to be a “regular part of their son’s life”. What THAT meant is that they wanted a babysitter FULL-time (no problem) and then started asking for month ($10K to pay off their bills). I didn’t even refuse THAT. I only asked for them to have a game plan, to stop their crazy spending. With THAT they decided to go move in with his dad (we have been divorced since my son was 1 year old) and my son sent me a CERTIFIED letter that he no longer considers me family. My grandson will be 2 years old in February. I got to see him from 3 months until 6 months. So, at least I am grateful for THAT.
This has gone on for so long that I am numb to it and can talk about it without breaking down and crying hysterically. My once pretty perfect son turned into an adult from hell.
I feel your pain. My son has not communicated with me for over 3 months now. He won’t return texts, phone calls or emails. He has blocked me from his Facebook account. The problem never was his and mine but his new wife’s and mine. I’ve jumped through hoops and bowed to all her demands and still it wasn’t enough.
She made no secret to the fact that she wanted me out of their lives for good and my son complied.
There is no pain worse than feeling that you’ve lost your son, when he is still living.
I put on this brave face but most days are a struggle to even get out of bed. Every day, every single day, I cry, either aloud or silently screaming inside.
I’ll add you to my prayers when I pray about my son…..which is several times daily.
May God grant us peace.
I’m there right now my 14 year old is in for a ride awakening if she doesn’t wake up so thank you for reminding me I’m not alone I REALLY needed that
Thank you. This is just what we need as mothers to give us strength! I can’t believe how perfectly you described my mornings…
Happy I’m not alone, Eva! Thanks for reading.
I loved this. I have 3 girls (18, 12, and 16). I am definitely going to have them read this. My 16 yr old first. As I read this I kept thinking was I really that bad of a child that it took 3 girls to punish me!! Thank you so much for this, it is exactly what I needed!
Glad you enjoyed it….and can relate!
This is amazing!! And so true , thank you for sharing!!♡
much appreciated 🙂
I might have to write something similar to this for my daughter! She will be starting HS in two weeks! She’s definitely the kind of daughter you want to choke once in a while. Her laziness and eye rolling get to me but her “I KNOW” attitude is the worse! Reading this just made my day.
God speed to you dear woman….from one mama to another!
Nailed It! Thank You 😉
Dear God…I literally feel like I wrote this. I just had this discussion with my 13 going on 23 year old…..amazing writing…please. Keep it up!!
Thanks Joan and thanks for reading!
Such a good read, I only have a one year old and I’m already dreading the teenage years but it’s good to read other moms go through this stage and I was one of those teenagers too!
Enjoy your sweet one-year-old. Then enjoy your 5-year-old and 13-year-old etc etc! Thanks for reading!
If I changed the wording around a bit, this would be great for my two teen daughters. I’m a single father as well so it’s likely even more difficult for me. Love them to death though!
thanks for reading!
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I, UNFORTUNATELY, have to reverse your story, for my life is just the oppposite:
‘DAUGHTER’ that makes a mother feel unloved or unwanted…..
I feel that SHE HAS ALWAYS NEEDED a ‘MOTHER’ > (One, that I feel that SHE feels she NEVER has had.
I feel that I have been RATED (Alonside watching her friends & their mothers) for as long as I think the hormones kicked in.
I had my daughter with my first husband, and my son w/ my second husband.
My husband (of 39 years) ADOPTED MY LITTLE GIRL at the tender age of 3 -1/2.
We quickly wanted children, so the two of them would be CLOSE IN AGE.
To this very day, MY HUSBAND is the one that my daughter will (CALL or TEXT); for any questions or news of her life.
I (TRULY FEEL), in my mothers ‘heart of intuition’ called: (HEART of HEARTS);
that SHE WISHES THAT SHE WAS BORN of ANOTHER MOTHER.
One that she (may have been like) one of her friends mother’s, or maybe even one of my own (sibling sisters).
SHE WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND WHO I AM, (this I know); BUT YET IT IS SO SIMPLE.),,,,,,,,:
I only became MY mother.
My daughter loved her Grandmother dearly, as she did my daughter, but I do not think she see’s the COMPARISON in us (at all).
My mother never once, after we were all raised, married, and starting our own lives, got on that phone just to (TALK). SHE ONLY CALLED TO TELL US OF A DEATH, A PICNIC, etc.
NEVER ONCE did my mother get into her car, if she had a lonely day alone, and come to seee one of us.
Yes, most of us DID WORK, (AND THAT WAS MOST LIKELY THE REASON); but I had to stop working in the year of 2000, and that would have made my daughter only 24.
My daughter, at age 18, was ready to dash out of the rules of her PARENTS HOME to be on her own.
She married and had childfren early, and I would babysit (I asked for no money), for I loved them so.
THEY LOVED BEING WITH (ME) MORE THAN THE HUSBANDS SIDE, and stayed all night together, glue to my hip. EVEN in my horrible pain, I had made ^-8 WONDERFUL YEARS OF MEMORIES, (and thankfully, I wrote a diary (for each); of our happy times together.
But my diaries were ENDED with the divorce of my daughter and her husband, for she remarried, and I never really saw them like I used to.
I used to make every mother/ daughter day at school/ Grandparetns Day at school, but due to noise, it affected the SPORTS.
My husband tried to make as many sports games as HE was able, working 6 day work weeks.
We helped both of out children out (if they got in a financial billls.
As much that we would not hinder our OWN Bills, of course.
Then, my migraines had gotten worse, and more triggers began; keeping me away from so many events.
After 10 years of my INHERITEDALLY RELATED MIGRAINES began, I then developed TMJ, due to bad grace work in the mid 1980’s..
Now, please listen INTENTLY TO THIS:
MY HUSBAND DOES NOT LIKE TO DRIVE, yet when my daughter moved 5 times while being married to her fird]st husband, we did OUR BEST with visitations of twice a week.
It was hard on us, when each place she moved to, was further and further away.
The most, being an hour.
The husbands parents DID NOT ever do as we did, yet I saw CONSTANTLY how my daughter catered more to that side of the family.
No, they just stayed home, unless my daughters family visited with THEM.
NOW: Back to MARRIAGE #2:
My husband stated to me that this visitation was hard on him.
Working 6 day workweeks, getting chores done at our own home, and now she lived 1 -1/2 hours from us.
We then chose to visit on special occcassions.
Our grandchildren were now divided, and we did not want to take them away from seeing their parents.
We kept HOPING that they would ASK TO BE WITH US AGAIN, but it never again happened.
IT FELT LIKE A DEATH.
It was then, that I truly never knew my grandchildren much AT ALL (and I cried soooo many tears).
Here I am, unemployed, migraines (non-stop), & when the TMJ began, I saught out a dentist that used NEW SPLINTS EACH in her 6 year TREATMENT (to try take the RESTRICTION of my jaw away).
My Neurologist knew that I was now what is called a REBOUNDER:
(WHEN A PATIENT HAS TO TAKE DAILY PAIN MEDS FOR PAIN; & if their bodies do not ‘receive it’, ONE CAN GET WORSENED PAIN, and also go into SEIZURES, for your body is now in a DETOX STAGE.
I knew, and I (witnessed my grandmother being in CONSTANT PAIN); & I was the lucky one to develop migraines the worst. SOME OF MY AUNTS HAD AS WELL.
So, for the pain of the TMJ, my Neurologist informed me that he had to (UP ME TO A STRONGER CLASS of PAIN MEDS CALLED ‘OPIATES’).
I was given the Opiate and a MUSCLE RELAXER.
Years have passed, and sadly, I still have the pain, but a diffferent TYPE, I just cannot speaks long AT ALL. (So, yes, I am still daily taking the meds for THAT).
I do not know if I am a REBOUNDER to these 2 newly added medications, or if my jaw was placed in such equal form, it is actually INCORRECT.
I THINK BACK IN TIME, & MY JAW ALWAYS HAD A CROOKEDNESS TO IT; so sometimes I suspect that this PERFECTNESS that was given to me is in fact still giving me pain.
EVERYONE in my family disagrees, except my husband.
When upon first beginning these two new medications, I was a zombie.
I slept 16 hour nights.
Oh, and let is not forget that when my TMJ began, so did my BREAST CANCER.
I was in MISERY (EMOTIONALLY & PHYSICALLY), for due to having a fast growing cancer, and bad (AS TOLD TO ME BY MY ONCOLOGIST); that I was going to have a double mastectomy while also treating my TMJ.
My daughter was so thoughtful to me during that torturous time. (THANK YOU, HONEY).
I felt that we were BONDED ONCE AGAIN.
3 years after all the surgeries for my breasts were over (DUE TO PROBLEM AFTER PROBLEM); I asked my Neurologist of why I was a zombie w/ the opiate and muscle relaxant.
My HUSBAND was doing absolutely EVERYTHING, I had told to the doctor.
So I (HAD TO ASK FOR YET to counteract THIS ONGOING TIREDNESS), for it was NOT FAIR to my husband.
It was THEN that ‘ADDERRALL’ was prescribed to me.
I became a (completely different person) on this medication.
I had 6 hours of being able to accomplish my home duties, but a miracle also happened:
THE ADDERALL GAVE ME AT LEAST 6 HOURS OD0F ZERO PAIN (I KIDD YOU NOT).
IT ALSO OPENED ME UP (VOCALLY). I was ALWAYS the shy one of my family.
I hated that part of me.
The Adderall helped me open up my voice.
I had 2 friends in school, no boys EVER asked me out
I would take a few years to learn how to (control my mouth), for I told ANYBODY WHAT I THOUGHT (if they were in the wrong).
But, I complained others, as well, in doing of good.
I then (opened up) to my daughter, and told her that I know I am not the MOTHER she had wished for in life, but she should try to accept me for who I am, MEDS & ALL)…
I told her that I (I STILL LOVED HER), as I always had, but yet I sense that she did not feel towards me w/ being shown the same RECEPTION BEING GIVEN BACK.
THIS ANGERED HER, AND SHE TOLD ME THAT SHE WANTS HER (MOTHER BACK), NOT THE DRUG ADDICT.
Of course, I was in disbelief.
This angered my husband, fir he said that:
“YOU ALWAYS HID YOUR PAIN FROM OTHERS SO THEY WOULD NOT WORRY ABOUT YOU. THJEY DIDN’T SEEE HOW YOU LIVED IN TREMENDOUS, NON-STOP PAIN, SOMETIMES THROWING UP.
YOU GOT SICK WITH BREAST CANCER.
YOU HAD ALOT OF CHOICES TO MAKE.
YOU HAD CHEMO.
THEN THE JAW ISSUES.
AND THEN (THOSE MEDS BEGAN).
Yet, when the ADDERALL started, they all saw a different person, and felt like they had lost you.
So, you were labeled the ADDICT, when you are still on the same amount of EVERYTHING, as when each were precscribed.
She then told my husband that he better hope that (I) pass first, because she is (IN NO WAY) going to be taking ‘CARE OF ME’!!
No, life with her new husband included moving away to dryer climates, and closer to the oceans, not Ohio. AND NO DISRUPTIONS BY HAVING ME IN THE PICTURE.
She was finally in HER HAPPY MARRIAGE, and she did not need me to burden her down.
My heart DIED THAT DAY.
I think she tries to make up for (those words), but they are imbeddded inside of me so deeply.
I told my husband to (PLEASE PLACE ME INTO A NURSING HOME IF I GET ILL), and he promised that he would, and I made the same promise to him as well.
HE was quite angry at my daughter for the words that shocked even HIM that day, so he did not speak to my daughter for MONTHS.
My daughter learned that until she ACCEPTED ME, that he wanted nothing to do with her.
Is she playing fake?
At first, yes.
A mother (KNOWS AND FEELS A TRUE HUG OF LOVE, FROM ONE THAT IS NOT).
I can finally say that true hugs are given.
NONE of us speak of me and my medications anymore, and I figured I will still be in their hearts: A DRUG ADDICT.
But,…I refuse to (live in pain); and my level of withstanding pain is a MINUS 10!!!
Yes, it will someday affect my organs, I am fully aware of that.
Yet the ADDERALL, for some strange reasoning, gives my life pain of (ZERO) until it wears out of my system each day.
I told God that I will use those hours to help lonely people, help people who feel judged, or have no friend to turn to in their life’s.
BUT…He had to BRING THEM INTO (MY LIFE), and believe me, God is doing JUST THAT.
I could write a book on my now 6th person, in the last 5 years that HE has wanted me to help.
I pray that my daughter never gets bodily ailments as I have.
I hope (SOMEDAY) that she loves me like a Mother SHOULD FEEL LOVED.
My faith is strong enough to KNOW IT WILL COME TO PASS.
Bless you all for reading a different side of the coin.