Dear readers, our Teen Time column is currently receiving a lot of questions, some of them personal. Our reader Mirjam also got in touch with me and asked whether my big girl’s 18th birthday was similarly emotionalising or upsetting for me.
I replied that finishing school and the fact that only two out of three children now have to be woken up in the morning and called to breakfast affects me a lot more, because the rhythm of everyday life has changed so visibly and I now almost always have a child at home in the morning while I work from home.
I then immediately asked her if she could write a guest post about it herself – if she was so moved by the approaching 18th birthday. And she said YES <3 Here is her touching report.
The 18th birthday: a bunch of colourful feelings
The 10 fascinated me because it made me realise that I had already been a mother for a whole decade. I felt a little queasy at 14 because I remembered that was the moment when I orientated myself more outwards. The first-born’s 18 is a pile of colourful feelings – comparable to the unsorted mountain of laundry that awaits me on the floor of my teen’s room. And where it makes sense to take a closer look and sort it so that the bright parts don’t get a grey tinge.
It’s a bit like the end of nursery or primary school. Like a trouser button that’s under tension. So much so that the buttonhole is stretched, the fabric around it is pulled into folds, one side of the button presses into the stomach and individual button threads are torn. At the end of July, it will burst open at midnight, making room for us to take a deep breath into our stomachs and let go of many of the things that have accompanied us over the last 18 years as we exhale.
For me, this means trusting that he is no longer tempted to ride backwards down the halfpipe, because he has already experienced that a broken jaw and subsequent illness can last for three quarters of a year and is very debilitating.
That he hopefully knows that it’s important to check the road for cars, even though you’re out with friends and your attention is more focused on being cool, because the guardian angel, who apart from fender benders on the bike and car has made sure that a collision without a helmet only results in a wound on the chin, doesn’t always have time.
And that the next time he drinks too much alcohol on an empty stomach and no longer reacts, there will be people nearby to call an ambulance.
In the hope that he doesn’t get too much of a testosterone rush in his own car at some point, which has greater consequences than what he has already experienced.
My previous fulfilment is slowly fizzling out
My fulfilment so far is slowly fizzling out. Since I was 11 years old, my focus has been on having children. I never lost sight of my idea of finishing school – training – getting pregnant and was able to realise it with a little delay.
This child has fulfilled my absolute dream: It made me a mother – body and soul. Pregnancy and birth were a blessing. I went back to work part-time after eight weeks and my parents took care of me during this time. I still breastfed fully for six months and enjoyed every free minute with my child. I was fulfilled, satisfied and had arrived.
I remember feeling very uncomfortable when he was around 1.5 years old because I sometimes said a sentence louder and more energetically than was usually necessary. Others were always amazed to realise that I could predict his reactions in many situations. Homeopathy worked extremely well because I was able to name and describe his characteristics, preferences and character traits better than my own.
Before his brother was born almost three years later, he gave the whole family a huge shock with an apathetic seizure. We decided against epilepsy medication, contrary to the doctor’s recommendation. I still marvel to this day at how firm I was in this decision, even though I had to wait over three years for confirmation that it was the right course of action.
Separate parenting since toddler years
Then things became more unsettled. We separated when the first child was four years old and the second was 16 months old. We managed well. Of course it was exhausting, despite huge support from family and friends, but I was fulfilled and satisfied. The tight schedule ensured that I was focussed. The day had structure and by 8 pm both children were in bed with bedtime supervision.</p
I found a babysitter in the family when I wanted to get away. Even before the children, I didn’t organise my free time in a way that would have been incompatible with parenthood. We spent a lot of time at home together instead of going out in the evening or going to the disco, going on trips to child-friendly places, visiting families, being creative and shopping in nice shops, baking, cooking, going on a city break or a wellness weekend, holidays in Holland … I was also able to go on city breaks with my boyfriend.
Corona was then largely relaxing for me. We were able to be in our second home for four months during the first lockdown. I didn’t have to think about what was right and wrong. And we grew together again in a different way and the first steps towards cutting the cord were delayed or took place very slowly.
Education and support, even when they were absent
After that, things moved quickly. Being able to switch off at 8pm in the evening after I’d done my work (even if it was doing the washing up, where I could just concentrate on my things) was history. Even when they were in their rooms, I heard voices, I wanted to collect their mobile phones, I thought about how much personal responsibility was sensible, I spent ages discussing mobile phone drop-off times – sometimes until it was bedtime for me too and my head couldn’t really rest.
Alternatively, I thought about how long it is appropriate to go out, how much it can affect me that I don’t get to rest until everyone is at home … how much I want to control and influence what happens at school and what is probably necessary, where it makes sense in teenage years to let them act on their own responsibility and where there are clear rules (eating together, family time, earning their own money, screen time).
Now my first child is coming of age
In all these thoughts, I never took the legal requirements as a prerequisite. Now that I’m 18, it’s somehow different. Basically, nothing will change – except the feeling. This liberation from the button popping open is there in many ways on both sides. But also the melancholy that 80% of our time together is already behind us, which fulfilled me so much and was my purpose in life.
With the children being teenagers, a huge pool of opportunities opens up for me that I could use every day, because I’m interested in a lot of things. Basically, it’s totally my thing to look after my nest and fly out occasionally. But I only need it in moderation for satisfaction.
At the moment, for example, I’m at home for five hours, nobody needs anything from me and nobody is hungry when I ask them, and it would make sense to prepare food when I leave the flat. They’re not starving, but I would enjoy preparing it, but I don’t want to postpone leaving home or come home in between to prepare something. Because it’s not that I don’t know what to do with myself, but my children are still my top priority and our time together is limited.
Child 1’s behaviour is 90% a mirror of mine, which makes the bond stronger, but also makes the desire more energetic that he hopefully has the advantage of a male brain, which – despite 1 million more influences – puts his head in clearer lines than mine and makes it easier for him 😉 At 18 it will probably become even more unstructured, there will be even less contact. That all makes sense and is a good thing. I’m sure that I/we were able to give him a lot, which is a good basis.
Great gratitude when I look at him
When I look at him, I am incredibly grateful for everything we have experienced together. For the fact that I put my children absolutely first during this intense time, for example by only accepting jobs with little responsibility and being able to exemplify this value with little money and a lot of love.
I admire his ability to name and communicate his feelings. I find his receptiveness to mindful relaxation methods (even if his willingness to use them is limited at the moment) very valuable. I feel confident that he has had so many experiences in his safe environment so far that his mind overrides his desire at the right moment, even if I wish he had more trust in his heart and gut at other times.
I am pleased that he has precise ideas in some areas and is willing to open the eyes of others. I wish that I/we would continue to act as an unconditional safe haven and that, by releasing the pressure, his feeling of wanting to please me would turn into a non-coercive feeling of cosy companionship.
I still would never have believed that a process that I have never questioned and that I find absolutely natural, healthy and valuable would challenge me so much in my experience and processing.
