Independence Days
There is such a sweetness to being a parent. I vividly remember the snuggling, the rocking and singing, the nursing and the big, sloppy hugs and kisses that I experienced with each of my sons in their early years.
Now that I have a tween and teen, my interactions with both of them are changing. There are still hugs and a few kisses. There is even still something akin to cuddling, at times.
There are also many instances in which each stretches himself and insists upon his independence.
On one level this is natural, expected and even exciting. After all, the whole deal with being a parent is that you are fostering a human being who gradually becomes adept at caring for himself or herself.
On another level, however, this is an excruciating and painful time. There is plenty of drama, more than enough head-butting and (on my part) some very real grief.
My “babies” are growing up and demonstrating that they are amazing, capable and unique individuals.
Even as I type out that very sentence, there is a catch within me. These independence days (months, years, decades) can be tumultuous and in so many different ways.
What can be start out as, “Great, you want to figure this out for yourself…” can also be felt as a huge rejection. If I listen mostly to the part of me that reads a [particular situation as “rejection” and tune out the part that knows this is healthy and natural, I am bound for even more emotional pain– and a whole lot of distance from my sons too.
What I want, above all else, is to be a true source of support for these two growing, learning and expansive young people I share life with. I also want them to love me, respect me and continue to connect with me. These two desires don’t have to be at odds, but they can seem to.
This is why many people talk about living with a teen as a tense, defiant and divisive time. This is why rebellion and all-out war can seem to be the predominant mode in a household.
It is understandable that any parent might feel embattled. This sometimes explosive push-pull happens not only on the outside– between two people, one of whom is seeking independence– but also on the inside (perhaps of both) as well.
I’m finding that these independence days are easier– and even enjoyable– when I remember to…
- Own my share in the drama.
- Remember that it truly isn’t about me.
- Trust, trust and more trust.
The thing about conflict in any relationship– including those between a parent and “child”– is that when disagreements arise and conflicts form, it’s all too common for each to see the other as the one who’s causing the problem.
In a culture that posits the parent as THE source of wisdom, this sets up all kinds of drama.
“How dare my ‘child’ refuse to listen to all that I have learned over the course of my life,”
“If only he (or she) would listen to me, this could all be easily solved,” have undoubtedly crossed the minds of many, many parents (mine too), even if they don’t want to admit it.
There are all kinds of assumptions that go along with these common thoughts that stand in the way of the independence trajectory of the teen and also intensify the disconnect and discord.
The effect is akin to amazing when I honor how I feel in a difficult moment and I also remind myself that I’m playing a role in this dynamic. This isn’t only about my son refusing to listen to me or disregarding my apparent wisdom (ahem). This is about an interplay of perceptions, intentions and expectations.
Just as it is vital that, as a parent, I remember that I am playing a role in the conflict or disconnection I perceive between myself and my son, I believe that both of us also benefit when I keep in mind the aspects of the situation that really are NOT about me.
These independence days involve me and I have my own growing to do… but, ultimately, this is about each of my sons becoming more experienced, confident and self-aware.
We each have our own path in life. There are all kinds of intersections and parallels along the way, but it helps immensely when I remember that my sons lives are not mine.
The beauty of this is that I can re-direct my attention to my own self-discovery and expansions. I can also be a better source of support for them when I am not pretending that I somehow get to control the course of their lives.
Parenting really comes down to trust and letting go. Trust and letting go. I trust that when I remember that I am dealing with another human being who is capable of making his own decisions, I can more easily get out of the way while providing a “landing place” and resource.
I let go and watch each of them grow.
