Dear Reader,
It’s fitting to call you that, as I pen down my thoughts not for my son, but for all of us traversing the tumultuous landscape of parenting teenagers. Let’s be honest: heartfelt letters don’t resonate much with teens, and this isn’t a love letter at all. Rather, it’s a reflection on the whirlwind that comes with raising a teenager.
My son just turned 16, a milestone that hit harder than I expected. Each birthday feels pivotal—13, 10, and now 16—all significant markers of his growth and my emotional journey. And this time, the feelings in my chest were akin to a buzzing hive of bees—not painful stings, but a flurry of anticipation and anxiety.
This storm of emotions, a combination of excitement and uncertainty, has been hard to pin down. When you’re in the throes of parenting a teen, there’s a lot of internal dialogue and not much external communication. I found myself sitting quietly with these buzzing feelings, trying to make sense of them.
The day of my son’s birthday arrived. It reminded me of the grief I felt when my mother passed away—so many words to express, yet no one to share them with. Perhaps the bees inside me were trying to escape, but I held them in check.
Unfortunately, my son’s 16th birthday wasn’t the grand celebration I envisioned. It fell on a school day, and he preferred to forgo a party. Our family dinner plans were complicated by twin toddlers, and I was left wondering why 16 didn’t feel as significant as I had anticipated.
Instead, I gave him a gym membership for a little independence and started a retirement account for his future. Then, I bought him a slice of cookie cake and took him to an R-rated film that explored mental health—his choice. We shared an uncomfortable silence on the drive there and back, but I was proud of my ability to respect his space, even as my heart longed to connect.
Afterward, I found myself alone, grappling with the aftershocks of a disturbing movie and a peculiar exchange about the meaning of a word. Just me and the buzzing bees, and I realized they were words clamoring to be expressed. But they were tinged with sadness.
So, why am I sharing this? Perhaps it’s the bees pushing me to articulate these feelings. As Maya Angelou eloquently stated, “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” It’s truly exhausting to carry these thoughts alone.
We need to start openly discussing the challenges of this phase of motherhood. It’s tough, and maintaining a relationship with a teenage son is no small feat. There’s an abundance of love, but that doesn’t simplify the complexities of communication. It doesn’t matter whether your teen is talkative or reserved, or if you used to be incredibly close. Regardless of the affection you hold for your child, it often feels like trying to bridge an ever-widening chasm.
If you’re feeling overwhelmed and unsure why others seem unfazed, trust me, they’re navigating the same turbulent waters. Many are bewildered, some are panicked, and others may not even realize the gap has widened. You are not alone in this struggle.
Remember, this phase will pass. Change is inevitable, and while it can feel daunting now, it’s also a part of the journey.
I think I’m finally ready to write that letter to my son, expressing the love I have for him, even if he won’t fully grasp it until much later.
Keep pushing through, fellow moms. We’re in this together!
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