Things I wish I could say, but it is so not my place. . .

[xiphias]

It's obvious that you love your daughter deeply, and you want the best for her. And you want to protect her, I get that. She's a wonderful human being, and she probably does need some protecting.

But. . . the reason she acts differently than you remember her acting is because she's sixteen, and is developing a personality. And she's going to disobey you, and she's going to sneak out at night, and she's going to forget to call and let you know where she is, and all that.

It's not because of her boyfriend. I know you don't trust him. But the reason you don't trust him is that he's dating your daughter, not because he's not trustworthy. Maybe he's trustworthy, maybe he's not. But I know perfectly well that, in your mind, there is nobody in the world who's good enough to date your daughter. That's because you love her, and idealize her.

But she's not an ideal. She's a person, a sixteen-year old person who's got a LOT of emotional stress right now, even more than most sixteen year olds. And she's going to act out.

Look: I'm willing to do everything I can to protect her, too. I'm willing to do everything I can to make sure her boyfriend doesn't take advantage of her. But . . . she's almost an adult. There's only so much protecting that is appropriate.

By the time your kid is in high school, you can't really control his or her actions. You can only trust that, in the fourteen years up until that point, you've given a good moral and ethical base for the kid to choose actions. And perhaps you are scared, now. You perhaps are worried that you didn't spend enough time with her when she was growing up. And events have happened so that you've got to take a much more active role in her life, and perhaps you're noticing that you don't know her as well as you thought you did, or wish you did, or just plain want to.

I don't know her VERY well, but I know her well enough to know that she's got a good head on her shoulders. Yes, she's going to make lousy decisions now and again, but I don't think she'll make any REALLY bad ones, any ones with permanent consequences.

At some point, you have to trust her. Things are traumatic enough as they are. They don't need to be shaken up any worse. She needs people around her she can trust, in a setting that is familiar.

And I wish I could say all this to you, but I barely know you. And it is so not my place to say it. And, for the person who this is about, please don't show this to the person it's written to, but know that I'm thinking of you.

Comments

[acromonkee.livejournal.com]

This might really help the person that it's written to. It's too bad we live in a society where giving real help isn't accepted and any kind of emotional honesty is considered embarrassing. Either way, I hear you on the frustration of not being able to help...

[browngirl.livejournal.com]

*sigh*

A.
thinking of you, and of people.

[papersky.livejournal.com]

In Marge Piercy's Woman on the Edge of Time the pledge they make to new babies when they're named is "I'll love you, mother you, and let you go." ("mother" there being gender-neutral.) That's the pledge I made to zorinth and I knew at the time that the letting go would be the hardest and all the same I didn't know anything. They start off utterly helpless, far more helpless than an animal, and they end up independent adults, and the relationship, unlike every other, is ideally a process of getting further apart -- and it's hard.

We're deeply lacking in coming-of-age rituals in western culture generally.

If I were you I'd at least ask the father if he'd be prepared to listen to what you have to say about it, your place or not. People don't get a lot of rehearsal for being parents. Sometimes a heads-up can be very useful.

[(Anonymous)]

don't worry, i would never show this to anyone.
and thank you. can we e-mail?