What No One Wants to Say Out Loud About Our Fears While Raising Teenagers

It's the September full moon and I can't help but remember the way the full moon reflected in the ocean on a particular full moon September midnight. My friend had barely made it in time to drive us to the hospital for the birth of my daughter. I had no idea whose car we were in. And even though my contractions were very close together, she decided to take the long way along the bay. Then I saw the moon, that soothing glow, and everything felt right.

That was 23 years ago and, somedays, I can’t really fathom how that tiny baby grew into such an amazing, brave, creative person... who has given me some of the best love and worst terrors of my life. And I wouldn't trade any of it.

Today’s article is an updated version of something I wrote a couple of years ago about those kinds of terrors. It prompted so many responses - “Yes, that’s exactly how I feel... Thanks for finally naming it... I don’t feel so alone...” - that I think these things are worth saying again.

We all know the feeling when the way you’re parenting your teenager doesn’t feel quite right. You’re saying and doing things that don’t align with who you are and what you believe in. You don’t want to be the fighter, the eggshell tip-toer, the controller, the mess-fixer, the beseecher…

You want to be parenting from your heart with wisdom, patience and acceptance. You want to make a change and have this story go differently. You want to get back on track in your own way of being, back following your intentions, and back in alignment with yourself.

You want to feel a real connection with your big kid. But the thought of making a change brings up fears.

Of course it does. Because raising teenagers is scary.

You’re afraid that you’ll be called selfish if you speak up for yourself.

You’re afraid that if you say No, your teenager will pull away from you for good.

You’re afraid that if you don’t fix their problems, they won’t trust you or come to you anymore.

You’re afraid that when they reject your opinion, they’re rejecting you.

You’re afraid that when they have outbursts or do foolish things, it means you haven’t done your job as a parent very well at all.

You’re afraid that if you don’t follow your kid around, get them to do their homework and check that they’ve taken their meds, those important things will fall through the cracks and crises and catastrophes will occur. You’re afraid they’ll end up back in the hospital or worse.

You’re afraid that they’re never going to get better and that you’re always going to be carrying the burden of their mental or emotional challenges.

You’re afraid that their anxiety/depression is actually kind of your fault.

You’re afraid if you don’t say the right things, there will be another blow up and you’ll be left sitting in the middle of a big mess, injured, blamed and left to somehow smooth it over.

You’re afraid that they’re not going to make it in the world. And you’re afraid it’s going to break your heart.

It’s tough to feel these fears while raising teenagers, have all these thoughts and feelings, and still keep parenting. Tougher than we’re supposed to admit to anyone. The demands are beyond your qualifications, above your pay grade and way more than you thought you signed up for.

You’re afraid that if you insist that they pull their weight around the house and show more responsibility, they’ll say you’re just too intense and then leave all the work to you anyhow.

You’re afraid that if you assert your boundaries, your kid is going to hurt you.

You’re afraid that if you call them out on their recklessness or unkindness, they’ll react with more recklessness and more unkindness.

You’re afraid your kid’s a jerk and you’re a crappy mother for letting them get that way.

You’re afraid that you’re not doing enough.

You’re afraid that you’re doing too much.

And beneath all that, you’re afraid that you haven’t lived up to the honour of being a parent to this soul. That you were sent a precious child and you haven’t managed to bring forth their light in the way that you should’ve done by now. You’re afraid that you failed the ultimate sacred role or that you were never worthy of it in the first place.

You’re afraid that there’s something fundamentally wrong with you that you can’t do a better job of raising this particular kid. That what happened to you when you were young cannot be healed. That some triggers are so deeply ingrained in you that you can’t change them. That you’re stuck repeating this pattern and growing slowly, slowly away from your child.

You feel like you’re running out of energy, running out of ideas and running out of time.

I understand.

I’ve been there.

I know how to walk with you in these fears, with the perfect balance of tenderness and courage, action and reflection, sifting through the chaff and revealing the seeds of what’s most important to you in this stage of motherhood.

"Lori is an incredibly compassionate and attentive coach. She listened thoroughly and helped me to really frame what I wanted and eventually come to a place where I felt I could really "shift" into what was my vision for my role as a mother. It was helpful to use metaphor and reflection practices to step back and assess situations from a higher vantage point.  Just the ability to identify these two states has really helped me to know when I'm operating from a mode of habit and learned behaviors or taking an intentional shift into the direction I want to go.  I recommend Lori to others who need a kind and steady guide, who can listen, affirm and support your growth.'

~ Ashley H, Ithaca NY