April 6, 2018
It truly does take a village. I recall hearing this sentiment frequently when my children were young, during times when we all recognized the importance of communal support: transporting kids to activities, spending afternoons in parks, and exchanging experiences regarding everything from developmental benchmarks to contemporary parenting styles. The journey of parenthood was new and sometimes overwhelming, prompting us to instinctively unite like a pack facing a threat.
However, seemingly overnight, our adaptable children transitioned into the unyielding teenagers we never anticipated. As a relaxed parent, I felt fortunate to maintain open lines of communication with my teens. But sometimes, their candidness made me want to cover my ears and sing, “la la la la la.” After these conversations, I would sift through my own adolescent memories, seeking reassurance that their behavior was typical. Until it became clear it was time to impose stricter boundaries.
Despite our efforts at home, the influence of peers often overshadowed parental guidance. In response, I reached out to the parents of my children’s friends, believing that as a collective, we could share insights, pool resources, and create a united front. As my son described, we could be “the bad guys” together. Yet, our kids insisted that nobody else’s parents cared—why were we making such a fuss?
What I encountered was a mixed response. Some parents were taken aback by the risky behaviors our kids were engaging in—smoking marijuana, drinking alcohol, and showcasing stolen prescription pills on social media. Others reacted defensively and withdrew. A few attempted to help but lacked the commitment to see it through, subscribing to the belief that “kids will be kids.” I was offered unsolicited parenting advice as if these issues were mine alone to shoulder. Alternating between pity and reprimand, the implication was clear: if my child was struggling, it must be my fault. This left me feeling ineffective and like the very type of overbearing parent I had vowed never to become. My well-intentioned outreach not only backfired but also left my daughter susceptible to exclusion and harassment. In reaching out, I inadvertently worsened the situation and shattered the trust between my children and me.
I watched in despair as my daughter’s once-vibrant circle of friends dwindled down to a few who neither supported her nor shared her values. She became a shadow of her former self, and by the time we enrolled her in a wilderness therapy program in Utah, she had been banned from over ten friends’ homes for behaviors they had all partaken in together.
Reaching the point of seeking help outside the home can evoke feelings of failure—not just for us, but for our entire community. I found myself an outsider holding my breath as my daughter’s peers concluded middle school, while she was off in the wilderness, carrying a heavy backpack and navigating a different kind of growth.
I would encounter familiar parents, who, despite witnessing our family’s upheaval, acted as if nothing was wrong. Most didn’t ask about my daughter or how we were managing. While I understand the desire to sidestep awkward situations, it was painful to realize that by ignoring our struggles, they believed they were sparing us from discomfort.
The shame and isolation felt by parents in similar situations is a common thread, born out of fear of judgment. Yet, no one understands better than a wilderness parent that any young person can transition from stability to crisis in an instant. It doesn’t matter how intelligent, sensitive, or accomplished they are. Some teenagers, like my daughter, dive headfirst into the tumult of adolescence. What they share with us is often merely the surface of deeper issues.
For months, I mourned the loss of our community. However, over time, certain relationships deepened as neighbors who had quietly observed our struggles came forward with understanding and support. Through an educational consultant and shared experiences, I connected with a network of parents navigating similar challenges. As another mother in this community remarked, this is what our village looks like now.
For those wishing to support families dealing with troubled teens, I offer this advice: unless space is explicitly requested, extend your support. Misinformation can spread like wildfire, and often all it takes is a simple conversation. Approach us with compassion rather than judgment, and perhaps offer a hug before any criticism. If our children witness this, they might learn to do the same.
In the context of exploring family dynamics and challenges, it’s worth noting that discussions around family planning and support networks can be found in various resources. For those interested in learning more about home insemination, visit this blog post for insights. Additionally, resources like this website provide valuable information on fertility. For further support regarding fertility treatment and planning a family, check out this resource.
In summary, as I navigated the trials of parenting a struggling teen, I learned that community support can be elusive but also transformative. While some connections faded, others deepened, reminding me of the importance of understanding and compassion in our shared experiences.