Having a teenage daughter makes you walk back into your own past. You see the things that she is going through and, if you are open, you can remember how you felt at that age, what you were feeling, how you reacted. I was going to say “if you are lucky”, but I must admit that revisiting my teenage years, even in my mind, is sometimes a painful thing. Adolescence isn’t something that most of us would want to go through twice, at least not without the benefit of the wisdom we gain in our futures – and now, I WILL say “if we are lucky”.
I was a late bloomer. I didn’t have my first date until I was almost 16, didn’t have my first kiss until I was actually 16. (You don’t get any more details past that point, sorry.) I was a miserable 14- and 15-year-old. I didn’t know why no one was interested in me. I wanted to believe that I was so pretty that I scared boys off, but my Mother told me that was not the case – she did it gently, but I still remember that conversation – exactly where we were and everything. My best friend Sarah and I felt like we were wearing some sort of sign that said “Never been kissed.” And just like a lot of other things in life, if you didn’t have experience, no one seemed to want to take a chance on you. Sounds like trying to find a job, doesn’t it? Of course, the corollary is rather true as well – if you had too much experience, people weren’t really interested in you either. Strangely enough, also like it is in the business world.
Anyway, as I said, I was a grumpy, bad-tempered teenager (until I could drive and then the world literally opened up before me. I became much nicer once I found my wings.) I didn’t want to be seen with my parents. I stayed in my room almost all the time that I was home, entertaining romantic notions of escape, and what my life would be like. I spent a lot of time in a dreamworld. The scarring experience of my pre-teen years likely played a role in this confused isolationism, and while I remember that, I don’t add it into the equation when I think about my teenage years in the grand scope of things. I guess I remember being a typical teenager.
Well, bloom I did, robustly and delightfully. I think most of us do, even though we think it will never happen. And once I came into my power, I felt invincible. Sometimes I still feel that way. Invincible, yes. Loveable is a little harder to believe, but I’m making good progress on it.
As I watch my girl and her friends go through their teenage years, I compare my own experience to theirs, and draw up from the depths of my soul the turbulent emotions surrounding change, acceptance, love, hormones, justice, freedom, adulthood, social quandaries, sexuality, school, frustrations, and delights. I don’t know if I’m right in applying my own perspective to their situations, now some 35 years later.
But on some level, I think that young women are young women (even if those of my daughter’s age are a bit more worldly than most girls of that age were in the late 1970s), and that the emotions that swirl around aging haven’t changed. In fact, as I find my half-century mark rushing up to meet me squarely in the chin, I realize that I am still experiencing a myriad of emotions around love, escape, freedom, satisfaction, work, frustrations, justice, time demands, acceptance, and delights. I don’t think of myself as much older than Kelsea or her friends at heart. I still feel things just as fully, innocently, and honestly as they do, as I did back then.
I was a late bloomer back then. Perhaps I’m a late bloomer now. Perhaps I am just eternally in bloom. But I am reminded of those lovely roses that bloom until early in the fall, their petals full and lush, their fragrance sweet. And when it is time for them to go, those petals fall like velvet tears, their scent still lingers in the air.
Photo of the day for January 30, 2012: Late Bloomer
San Francisco, California.
Daily gratitudes:
A lovely weekend
MKL
The man who leaves walks down Wynkoop every day playing his mandolin at 5:00 pm
Cases of San Pellegrino
Silliness
Instead of a quote of the day, I have a request: Please send prayers to Sarah Bennett, one of Kelsea’s friends who was seriously injured in a car accident during the weekend.
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January 30, 2012 at 11:44 pm
Cin
I don’t think I would want to go back to my teen age years. I bloomed early, but there was so much angst and hormones…. o.O I was a moody thing, happy one min, crying the next.
Hormonal time bombs…
I look at teens now and I think about how different their world is compared to mine and it was only 15 years ago or so!
January 30, 2012 at 11:51 pm
Seasweetie
I thought you might still be up, Cin :-). I know, the happy/sad thing – no wonder so many parents think their teens are mentally ill. If they could only remember – it’s a normal thing. Tough, but normal.
January 31, 2012 at 8:26 am
Cin
Yea, its sad. My mom actually wanted to admit me at one point. She didn’t get the emo after my bf broke up with me.
January 31, 2012 at 10:53 am
Seasweetie
I think that’s what happens when kids turn out differently from how their parents expect them to, Cin. Hence the preponderance of meds that parents put their teens on. I think they’re trying to help their kids acheive a sense of normalcy according to the parents vision of normalcy.
January 31, 2012 at 4:32 am
TBM
Teen years…I think I remember them, but I’ve blocked out most of them. Man high school was tough and I was pre-Columbine. I didn’t bloom until college and I like to think that I am still growing as a person and still becoming comfortable in my own skin…it is a life process.
January 31, 2012 at 10:49 am
Seasweetie
You are totally right – it is a life process, TBM. I think most of us grow more beautiful all the time.
January 31, 2012 at 5:24 am
Simply Tia
I want to go back to my teenage years. I would change a lot about my attitude and outlook on life. I was a rude child to my mother and step father – Horrible!!!!
Because my mother was a teacher (and I grew in a third world country) basically sometimes you can do whatever you want if you can pull the right strings. Sooo my mother got me into Grade K at age 3. I turned 4 that November. When I graduated high school I was 15 years old and flat chested. All my peers were around 17 with hips and breasts and I was a little scrawny skinny, big eared girl whose main purpose in life then was to be class clown.
Watching everyone physically develop around me was heart wrenching. I remember stuffing my bra with toilet tissue to give the illusion I had breasts (like ppl wouldn’t think they just came out of thin air)….and one day after gym, I took off my gym clothes to put back on my school uniform and out rolled my “breasts”.. my toilet paper was all over the floor. Everyone was laughing. It was humiliating.
I’ve finally gotten breasts and I did develop quite nicely (and most of those who developed early look horrible now).
My point of this long, boring story is at that age, we have no real clue what life is about. We are trying to find ourselves and our meaning/purpose in life. I have a young teenage cousin who is just like I was and no matter how I try to talk to her about the bigger picture, she is just stuck in her own teenage world. I figure parents and adults will try to help you out during those tumultuous years but everyone has to find their own path, their own way.
Sorry for the speech 😦
January 31, 2012 at 10:51 am
Seasweetie
So true, Tia. I share your pain, though the worst of my humiliating moments were in middle school. If I could go back and do it over (God forbid), I would be a lot less shy. It is so clear that teens today are struggling to find their own path, just as we were back then. As a parent, all I can really do is be there and listen.
January 31, 2012 at 8:14 am
janetkoops
I was a total dork until 16, then everything changed.
January 31, 2012 at 10:52 am
Seasweetie
16 does seem like a transforming yeaar, doesn’t it, Janet?
January 31, 2012 at 11:22 am
thesinglecell
Oh no, not going back there. Was not fun, would not be fun again, even WITH the wisdom I’ve gained in the ensuing years, because, as you say, we are still in bloom. Works in progress. Too much heat or too much cold can cause little deaths and the fight back to a blossom is that much harder. With a sister 13 years younger, I watched her progression from a distance, worried even though she did the right thing at every turn. She’s 21 now and I’m still worried, as she struggles with some of her own demons. I remember once I thought I could save her from them, because I had battled my own. Hers showed themselves differently, and there was so little I could do. But your Kelsea seems well-adjusted and happy, vibrant and open. My sister has that vibrant openness, too – whereas I was more like you – in my room a lot. We all flower, though… thank God.
January 31, 2012 at 11:32 am
Seasweetie
It is so hard to watch someone you love fight those battles, singlecell. As a mother, I still want to fix things, but I understand that she has to be able to fix things herself. In fact, she tells me to let her fight her own battles, which is good, but she’s a third-generation “I’ll do it myself, damn it_”-er, and I also want to help her understand the value of a helping hand. It makes your friends feel good to help someone they love. That said, she is a vibrant human being, and I love watching her – and myself – continue to bloom.
January 31, 2012 at 12:32 pm
marjulo
I was a late bloomer too and very naive as a teenager. I grew up in the fifties and early sixties. My sister, only a year younger, was just the opposite. We grew up in the same house no less! I was the older sister and very sensitive, rather bookish. College was a horrible shock to me, mainly the social scene.
I bloomed, but always thought I was ugly and unattractive. When I look at pictures of my young self, I see that I was very attractive and often vivacious. The mind plays terrible tricks on us. I always wish my parents hadn’t felt it was wrong to praise appearance. They praised brains and good grades, but never commented on looks.
Although my daughters were much more social, they didn’t date in high school. They went around in mixed groups, which is much better I think. Interestingly enough, my older daughter married a boy she knew in high school! They became a couple in college. Both my daughters had social self confidence, which goes a long way. I always told them they were pretty and looked good. I wasn’t going to scrimp on praise!
January 31, 2012 at 12:48 pm
Seasweetie
Isn’t it lovely to see your daughters’ self-confidence, marjulo? I was so worried that my daughter would be shy, as I was growing up. She’s acutally much more outgoing than I was, but she still has the shy elements. They just aren’t as dominant. I’m glad you praise your daughters. Everyone needs to hear that they are beautiful on all levels, especially teenagers. Interesting how strong a role our parents words play in our shaping our visions of ourselves.
January 31, 2012 at 10:33 pm
dafarmer
My teenage years ended eleven years ago and I’d rather not re-visit that. I think if our second child is a girl I will be able to understand her unless she is totally different than me. I was really shy as a teenager and it took me forever to finally bloom. I think and I hope I can relate to my son when he gets older and turns into a teenager and I hope I will have the patience and understanding I have with him now as an infant.
January 31, 2012 at 10:44 pm
Seasweetie
Just keep remembering, Dina. I think that self-awareness, and willingness to feel and share your memories is key to relating to teenagers.