The First Time Your Tween Pushes You Away is the Ultimate Heartbreak

The following is a post written by Whitney Fleming, author of You’re Not a Failure: My Teen Doesn’t Like Me Either.

In motherhood, there are so many “firsts” that take your breath away. That first time your baby laughs. The first steps a toddler takes to your outstretched arms. The first time your son takes the school bus or your daughter learns how to ride a bike. When I reflect on these moments, my heart feels full.

As our kids grow, the “firsts” come less frequently and the time stretched between them lengthens. Instead of celebrating a new milestone, the goal becomes surviving another Monday shuttling your kids to piano, soccer, the library, and Tae Kwan Do while serving something edible for dinner in a Tupperware container that is BPA-free, of course.

#winning.

There are different kinds of first in the tween years

And then, out of nowhere, another first occurs. Except this time, it doesn’t involve the potty, or school, or sleeping through the night in her very first big girl bed. Instead, it’s the first time your child rips your heart out, tears it to shreds, stomps all over it, and kicks it to the side for good measure.

Maybe I am being as dramatic as my middle schoolers were, but that is what it felt like.

One evening, when my daughter was 13, I shared what I thought would be some great news. Her middle school sent an email stating that she was to take a placement test for accelerated math. Exciting, right?

My daughter felt differently. She did not want to take this test, and felt that the class would be too difficult for her. She didn’t like the teacher and did not want the additional work.

I was surprised. I explained to her that she could do anything she put her mind to, and that we could discuss the options after she took the test, but she would have none of it. I continued my lecture. She held her ground.

This argument seemed ridiculous to me, yet we kept going. Our voices escalated as our comments became a little bit more personal and outlandish. This was no longer about a test.

That’s when she said it.

“I do not want to talk to YOU about this. I do not want to talk to you EVER,” she said flatly, and she walked out of the room.

Ouch.

To say I was a little shocked is an understatement

If you’re a seasoned mom of teens, you know how ridiculous this must sound, but as a first- time mom to an adolescent, I couldn’t believe what happened. I felt like she just slapped me across the face. My normally sweet and happy-go-lucky daughter delivered blows that I was not prepared to handle.

As I watched her walk up the stairs, I very maturely stated, “Well, that can be arranged.” I rose up from my seat, turned on my heel with my head up high, and marched myself right into the kitchen.

It took me about seventeen steps before I could feel the tears well up in my eyes as I started the dinner dishes. This was not the relationship I have worked so hard to maintain with my daughters. This was not supposed to happen to me. Maybe other moms who didn’t work so hard at communication, but not me. I was focused on being open and honest with my girls, I used understanding tones and tried not to yell (a lot), and I worked hard at being the compassionate mother who “gets it.”

But we went off the rails. She just gave me the proverbial middle finger, and I did the equivalent of the teenage door slam. It may not have been as dramatic as the “I hate you” or other verbal barbs that young girls knife-throw at their mothers, but to me, well, let’s just say it rattled my cage.

It was the first time she challenged me.

I know what you are thinking. This isn’t that big of a deal, and it really isn’t. But it did mark a major milestone in our house. This was the first time one of my daughters openly challenged me about a life decision. It was the first time that she lashed out in a way that was not a tantrum. It was the first time that she strategically struck me in the jugular — she hit me exactly where she knew it would hurt. And it did.

A few minutes later, I called my husband. Knowing I was exhausted from a busy weekend, I told him what happened between saying things like, “I know I am just being sensitive” and “I think I’m just tired.” But even he was a little surprised that our normally even-keeled and sweet daughter pushed back so hard.

We weren’t sure what to do next. We didn’t feel like we should punish her, but we did think she needed to apologize. I kinda sorta thought I needed to offer an apology, too. So, we decided we would just let it go for now and address it later.

But the truth was, she tweaked me and got under my skin. I forgot for a minute that I was the grown-up. I thought if she did not want to talk to me, I would simply follow her wishes. I would not speak to her until she apologized or acknowledged me. She launched the first cannon, but I would win the war, or at least this particular adolescent battle.

I immediately put my plan into action. I walked right by her as she sat on the couch with her sisters watching TV and ignored her. Although she didn’t even look up, I felt like my attitude spoke volumes. I went up to my room and ignored the heck out of her for approximately eighteen minutes.

That’s when I heard a knock on my door.

“Mom, I’m sorry.”

“Mom, I’m really sorry I said I didn’t want to talk to you anymore. I didn’t mean it,” my daughter softly said to me.

As I tried to tell her that I only wished she saw all the intelligence and talent and beauty in herself that her teachers and friends and father and I can see, the tears started flowing uncontrollably out of my eyes.

You might also like to read: Dear Parents: You Are Not a Failure-It’s Just Hard Raising Teenagers

And that’s when another milestone happened. My daughter rushed over to me, threw her arms around my neck, and for the first time, she put MY heart back together.

As we held each other silently for what simultaneously felt like an instant and an eternity, I knew our relationship changed. In one moment, we both saw each other at our worst and then at our best. I was still her mommy—the one who kissed her forehead each night and made sure she was safe—but I also had to accept she was growing up.

She wanted to make her own decisions.

She wanted some power and control over her life, and in her own way, she was asking me to hand it over. It was about a stupid math test, but it was also so much more. And in order to not lose her, to keep her close, I had to oblige. “I want you to take the test, but the ultimate decision on whether you participate in the class will be up to you; however, you’ll have to provide your reasons to Dad and I, and talk to the teacher.”

“That sounds fair, Mom. I’m good with that,” she said. And then, as if to remind me that she still needed me, she kissed me on the cheek and ran out of my room. My heart felt full again.

I am not so naive to believe that this won’t be the first of many “challenges” I have with my middle school daughter as we start a new phase in our relationship. And I know that the issues ahead of us will grow in size and scope. However, I am hopeful that we both learned a little bit more about each other, and a little bit more about ourselves.

But mostly, I hope we remember more about putting the pieces back together than tearing them apart.

Looking for a book that will help you feel less alone during these challenging years of raising teens?

We recommend You’re Not a Failure: My Teen Doesn’t Like Me Either by Whitney Fleming. With this book, you can flip the narrative about raising teenagers by taking control of your emotions and responses to create a loving, supportive relationship.