Being Your Teen's Lighthouse When the Storm Hits

Dear friends, I recently asked you what would be good for you as parents during your kids' teen years, what you'd need so you don't feel so alone and overwhelmed with certain topics. Today I'd like to build you a soft cloud that can wrap around you the next time things get challenging.

Maybe there was another blowup just yesterday. Maybe someone lost their patience and ended up saying something hurtful, maybe there were accusations again, or the exact same argument you've been going in circles over for weeks. Maybe you're asking yourself right now:

How do I handle it when my kid blames me for everything and accuses me of not wanting them to have anything nice, of not wanting them to be happy? How do I stay open-minded when my own child openly rejects me? How do I bear this stinging rejection? Am I doing all of this right? Is it like this for other moms, too?

All the Questions of the Teen Years

How do I not take the name-calling personally? How do I bring up things when I know my kid will probably explode? How do I deal with the meltdowns when my 16-year-old feels misunderstood yet again? Is it okay to ban gel nails for my 13-year-old, or am I overreacting, since it's not exactly life or death?

When will it finally click for my kid when it comes to school, now that things are getting serious and somebody really ought to be doing something? Who gives ME a hug when I have to pick my kid back up after a bad grade because they're questioning their entire existence? And how do I stay cool when they couldn't care less about bad grades?

How do I stay relaxed when the first parties are coming up? How do I let go and stop being so scared when my kids are out and about? Who's going to tell me that everything will be fine, that this is all just a phase and my kid isn't going off the rails (or is it happening already?)?

Where can I still influence screen time? Who helps me build my child back up after a bullying situation? How do I give them confidence and something to look forward to in the future when everything feels lost in a fog?

Where are the other parents who honestly tell it like it is, who admit how hard all of this can be sometimes, who own up to the fact that there are rougher stretches, stretches of doubt? How do I keep my sense of humor in this new chapter of life?

So Much Running Through Our Heads!

See how many questions that is? How many areas of life they touch? How shaky the ground is, because maybe we never realized how much would come hurtling at us in this stage? It's absolutely okay to feel overwhelmed by all of it. And it's fantastic that you wonder whether you're doing this right, because that's how we start to reflect.

When the big picture gets this out of control, we have to look at what we can still get a handle on in the small stuff. How do I regulate myself? What else helps me in challenging situations? Under what circumstances can I handle things better?

If I once ended up in a ditch on a Vespa myself, it may be important to me to forbid my kid from getting around on two wheels, because otherwise I can't sleep all night. If the thought of a stranger driving my kid around at night in an Uber makes my skin crawl, I can offer to pick them up myself at a certain time.

We Have to Be Able to Live With the Decisions, Too

These are the compromises we also negotiate with OURSELVES, so we can better handle these new situations in our lives. We're allowed to explain our decisions to our kids, but we have to figure out which battles we're really willing to fight, so we can deliver our rules with conviction. Because WE have to be able to live with those decisions, too.

Let's compare it to a situation on vacation, back when our three kids were very small and very, very active, always on the run. We drove up to a lookout point on a mountain above the sea. There were fences (you're allowed to put up fences! And you decide for yourself how close to the cliff you build them), and still the kids were darting around way too fast and way too wildly. In my mind's eye, I could already see them tumbling into the ocean.

If I'd been there alone, I would have just put them back in the car, buckled in and safe, because I was the one on edge, thanks to my fear of heights. But there were three of us, and the other two said they could keep an eye on the kids and go along with them. So I went to the car by myself and was able to calm down.

We Should Know Our Own Limits Well

For that, though, we have to know our own limits well. And tell the difference between real danger (there wasn't any) and perceived danger (my nervous system). With real danger, of course, we would have kept everyone in the car. Obviously. As it was, it was easier on everyone to separate for a moment. They got to enjoy the view, and I got a break from worrying about being responsible and didn't pass my own fears on to them.

We're allowed to ask ourselves what really matters to us. We're allowed to set firm rules, and we're also allowed to loosen some rules and find compromises. Fixed points and variables. We're allowed to make sure everyone gets through this stage as unscathed as possible, ourselves included. We're allowed to talk about feelings, and we're allowed to protect our boundaries and accept theirs.

Be the Lighthouse: Offer Guidance and Reliability

We're allowed to be the lighthouse when a storm rolls in and our child's little boat starts to wobble and loses its bearings for a bit. The lighthouse doesn't sail along. The lighthouse stands firm, shines into the dark, and stays reliable.

But even the lighthouse needs upkeep. A fresh coat of paint now and then, and modern wiring. Even the lighthouse needs a little restoration after storms have raged around it and sea salt has crusted onto the masonry. A restoration that helps it withstand the next waves and let them bounce off, even if it creaks a little on the inside.

You're allowed to stand tall, you're allowed to shine, you're allowed to be sure that your signals are getting through, even when the way through the fog sometimes takes longer… In the end, what we offer is guidance and, above all, reliability. Because we're here. And we stay. Even when the little boat is far, far away and only flickers on the horizon.