I vividly recall the moment that changed everything for me. I came home from school one day to find my mother sitting on my bed, her expression troubled. She told me to take a seat, and I opted for the desk chair, confused and apprehensive.
She explained that while she was “organizing” my room, she had “accidentally” discovered my diary. I raised an eyebrow, incredulous and already defensive. My mother rarely cleaned my space, and my diary was deliberately hidden beneath piles of notebooks and loose papers. It was not something one would stumble upon by chance.
She shared her concerns about what she had read, then promptly grounded me for a whole month. There was no meaningful conversation; no opportunity for me to explain my side. To me, it felt like a breach of trust followed by punishment.
I exploded with anger and may have even yelled, “I hate you!” I was, after all, a confused teenager dealing with many issues. While I wasn’t into drugs, I often drank on weekends and sometimes drove under the influence. I was entangled in complicated relationships with boys, trying to navigate a chaotic home life marked by divorce and dysfunction. I was searching for an escape.
Looking back, I realize I was also yearning for my mother’s attention. I went through a rebellious phase, shaving my head and hanging out with punk and goth crowds. I dressed in black, used heavy eyeliner, and sported spiky bleached hair. My array of boyfriends, some much older, was my way of saying: PAY ATTENTION TO ME!
So, I can understand why she felt compelled to read my diary for answers, even though the signs of my struggles were apparent. She recognized the chaos in our family and saw my self-destructive behavior unfolding before her eyes. As a writer, my journal was likely perceived as a treasure map to my inner turmoil. Instead of seeing my misdeeds as breadcrumbs leading her back to me, she fixated on the negative and punished me for them.
Surprisingly, I can’t guarantee that I won’t peek at my daughters’ diaries when they reach their teenage years. Although they are still young, I know that adolescents can make poor choices. If I sense something troubling in their behavior, I won’t hesitate to seek understanding.
I suspect my mother had similar intentions. If I do feel the need to investigate, I’ll be upfront about it. I’ll acknowledge my violation of their privacy and explain my concerns directly: I’m worried about you. I can’t seem to connect with you, and this is why I felt compelled to look. Can we talk? I won’t punish you for your private thoughts, but I will ask for clarity. I want to understand how I can support you because I love you.
At their core, kids are open books, even if their diaries are tucked away. During their teenage years, they often lack insight into their actions, their behavior a direct reflection of their emotional state. If all you see is turmoil, it’s crucial to uncover the reasons behind it. Take the necessary steps, then engage in dialogue.
Most importantly, listen to what they have to say. Your child will likely provide the narrative you both need to navigate the situation together.
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In summary, understanding your children during their tumultuous teenage years requires patience and open communication. It’s essential to recognize the signs of distress and approach them with empathy, ensuring they feel safe to share their thoughts.