Mama Drama & the Dalai Lama: Teen Heartbreak Hotel
It seems that for the past three days, I’ve apparently just been listening to the sound of my own voice talking, which by the way, is extremely annoying. Let me explain: My oldest daughter broke up with her boyfriend (again). So as usual, I attentively listened while she cried, yelled, swore, cried some more, and didn’t judge when she compulsively shopped (her chosen form of self-medication.) She broke up with him and seemed to have her mind set on what she thought was best for her at this point of her life. So being the good mom that I am, I supported her decision and spoke my piece, secretly thrilled that she had finally seen the light with this guy. Or had she?
Unfortunately, it seems as if all of the “I am woman, hear me roar” bravado had begun to wane on day three, post-breakup. Now he isn’t the jerk she thought he was… she’s at fault now. Instead of the tears and rage— which I can deal with because at least we were moving forward—she is back sliding into denial and rationalization. Sitting there listening to her blather on about why it’s her fault and how all this time apart has given her an opportunity to see that she is the one that is need of change (seriously?!) literally made me want to scream! All I wanted to do was grab her and shake some sense into her, but alas, that would be stepping over the county line and I have been begrudgingly trying my best to respect the boundaries.
It’s not that I dislike the guy per se; it’s just that I believe my daughter can do better. I know that sounds just horrid, but let me be more specific. He is a nice kid, but my daughter is an exceptional person; and well, to be as blunt as I can, I think that she is settling. I also realize that I only have a day pass in her life these days, and it’s really hard. I hate that I can’t say “No, I forbid you to see this guy anymore because I know you can do better.” Nope, I just have to stand here helplessly on my side of the road, watching her head towards a cliff, waving and yelling, “Good luck with that!”
To make matters worse, my youngest daughter broke up with her boyfriend a few months ago and she is still bouncing around with him. One day she is up, the next day she hates him and wishes that he would evaporate. Trust me, he is far less suitable than the other guy, so I do wish that he would evaporate. My problem (as we all know) is that I am a control freak—so watching both of my precious children settle for something less than they deserve is nothing short of torture for yours truly. Of course, I want to get in there and fix it all. I want their lives to be perfect and happy; and yes, that means I want them to be with the right guys.
Okay, so clearly I hate that they seem to be picking the wrong guys and it drives me bonkers, but… at the end of the day, there is nothing that I can do but let them learn from their own mistakes. *Ugh, every time I say that sentence out loud, I taste vomit in my mouth.*
And here we are back to suffering. Why do we always get back to this place as parents? I’m convinced that being a parent is the most impossible job on the planet. These amazing little creatures drift into our lives one day, filling us up with more love than we ever even dreamed we were capable of. They need us to feed them, comfort them, protect them, and love them; and happily we do. Then one day, like magic, these little humans turn in big humans, and suddenly we are supposed to just say, “Okay, well, have a great life.” I’m sorry, but as much as I would LOVE to do that, I can’t. Even if reasoning demands that I face the reality that my children’s lives are their own, thus I have to let them find their own way— my maternal instincts are sometimes (okay more than sometimes) going to want to get its two cents in. At those times, I might very well just be whistling Dixie, but as their mom, it’s the only tune that I know by heart.
Are your teens currently in that dating stage? How do you (NOT) meddle?! Share your thoughts with us!
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