As I stand at the bathroom sink, my daughter, Lily, is right beside me, her eyes wide with curiosity. I recently treated myself to some new skincare products, and she’s eager to try them out too. At just 11 years old, she still seems to hang on my every move.
If I start wearing a trendy pair of jeans, she immediately wants one for herself. When I whip up a salad, she insists on having the same. She still seeks my advice on her outfits and appreciates how I style her hair. It warms my heart when she comes to me, whispering about a crush or snuggling up to me during tough times with friends.
Lily loves spending time with me, often sharing her Instagram posts before hitting publish. She’s like a sponge, soaking up everything I do, and it feels good to be her go-to. Yet, deep down, I know this won’t last forever.
Soon enough, Friday nights spent doing face masks and binge-watching cooking shows won’t seem as appealing to her. I worry that those cozy Sunday mornings, where she lays her head on my shoulder, will become a thing of the past. I fear she won’t share her life with me as openly as she does now.
I’ll have to learn to ask more questions, as I suspect she won’t be as forthcoming. It’s a bittersweet reality, and I know my heart will ache a little along the way. I can already imagine the disappointments we might face together.
When I first held Lily in my arms, I never imagined this moment would come. I thought we’d always have this strong bond. Yet, I realize this shift is a normal part of growing up. It’s tough to accept that one day she might see me as less than amazing.
I plan to be a good listener, resisting the urge to jump in with advice right away. I need to truly understand what she’s trying to express. I know this in my mind, but it doesn’t make it any easier for my heart.
I want to give her the freedom to make her own choices, but within clear boundaries. It’s vital that she learns how to navigate her newfound independence as she prepares for the real world. I’ll keep reminding myself that if she acts out, it’s not necessarily about me—most of the time, anyway.
I also understand that her friends will soon take precedence over family, and I hope I can handle that shift gracefully. I’ve heard from other parents whose kids have grown up that they eventually return to you. The eye-rolls, arguments, and power struggles may fade, replaced by love and appreciation, leaving you with a grown child who still needs their mom—just in a different way.
I’ll keep this in mind, reminding myself daily that this stage is inevitable. I can already feel the changes coming, and I’ll miss the part of her that seeks me out. But I know she will come back to me.
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In summary, navigating the tween years with my daughter is both exciting and nerve-wracking. While I cherish our current closeness, I recognize that the transition is a natural part of growing up. I must embrace patience and understanding as I support her journey toward independence.
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