| It was bedtime on a Sunday night. Exhausted from a long week I longed to sleep but felt impressed to stay awake and sew. Sew? Yes, something inside told me I must sew. Luckily, I listened. The house was quiet. Everyone was asleep. I’d been quilting for almost two hours when I received a text message from an unknown number. Upon reading it, I believed it was a prank. But then the doorbell rang. I walked down the stairs to see two policemen standing at my front door. The message was definitely not a prank. That night I learned my daughter was suicidal. She’d been expressing suicidal thoughts through texts to a friend at school. Concerned and confused about what to do, this friend had told her college-age sister. It was this sister that stepped up and sent me the text message I’d received earlier that night. My daughter’s secret was now known. Facing it became harder than keeping it hidden. Especially at home. Each day upon returning from school, she’d immediately seclude herself in her room. She offered no happy greetings or pleasantries when she walked in the door. Instead, she’d race up to her room to be alone. There she’d sit at her desk. Spending hours in the dark face timing friends. Her favorite black hoodie pulled up to hide her face. Eyes glued to her phone. Airpods shoved in her ears. This repeated. Day after day. Week after week. Cutting and pain medicine became her new methods of emotional release. She avoided family time. Chores and outings were a definite ‘no’. Conversations were taxing and short. Everywhere I was, she wasn’t. She repeatedly told me, “You don’t get it” and “We’re so different you just can’t understand.” In many ways, she was exactly right. There was SO much of what she was experiencing that I didn’t understand. But she was also very, very wrong. There was much of it that I DID. I decided to make it my mission to prove it to her. To show her that not only was I the mom she had, but I was the mom she needed AND wanted. Fast forward five years to last Sunday night. My daughter called me into her room and asked me to sit on her bed. I wondered what was coming as I hesitantly sat facing her. She slowly began to speak, “I don’t want to be a senior … ” she breathed deeply, “cause it means it’s my last year living here … with you. I don’t want it to end.” Her eyes began to fill with tears as she lifted her head to gaze into mine. I wrapped my arms around her. She melted into my embrace as I too began to cry. I acknowledged her perspective. Validated her feelings. And reassured her nothing was ending. I then suggested we could make this the BEST of our many years together. She loved the idea and within minutes we’d come up with a plan to do something new, just her and I, every month through graduation. We decided to call it “Makin’ Memories with Mom” and immediately put the first few activities on the calendar. My friend, these two stories are about the same daughter. This IS my lived experience. It isn’t a fairy tale or a delusion or even a fabrication to manipulate you. This is my lived reality. All those years ago I set out to prove to my daughter that I understood what she was experiencing. And I have. Our relationship has been completely transformed because of it. My dedication and willingness to become the mother I am today is the greatest triumph of my life. The journey was not always easy. There were days I questioned my desire, my ability, even my capability. But still, I didn’t give up. Because I believed the meaningful, lasting, and connected relationship waiting on the other side was far too important to EVER give up. You’re wanting to transform your relationship with your teenager too. Every day I hear mothers telling me why they can’t make it happen. Why they can’t do what I’ve done. They believe I’m the exception, not the standard. And so they argue for their limitations that keep them from what they want — They’re not smart enough, strong enough, or talented enough. They’re too busy, too tired, or too stressed out. They’re worried their husbands won’t support them, agree with them, or do their part. They’re convinced their teens are “harder” than mine. They’re doing drugs, vaping, having sex, stealing, cheating, or calling them horrific names. But, my friend, I’m not the exception. I’m not an anomaly. Of this I am certain. I and the hundreds of clients I’ve helped over the years are the standards. We’re living proof that a mother’s influence is the most powerful force on earth. It’s time for you to stop questioning yourself and start acquiring the skills you need to connect with your teenager. I teach these skills in CONNECTeen, my group coaching program for moms. Registration will open next week. I will teach you how to magnify your influence to create the impact in your household that you’re desperately longing for. Teaching moms is my superpower. Some of my clients call it ‘voodoo’, but I promise it’s not. It’s just skills I’ve acquired that all moms must have to connect with their teen. It’s time you acquire them too! A quick reply to this email will ensure you’re the first to know when registration opens. Sunday nights have great meaning to me. How grateful I am for the impression to stay up, the sister who was willing to send a difficult text message, and the officers who stood ready to help. You wouldn’t be reading this without them. They set my parenting transformation in motion. And it’s what’s led me to the beautiful, connected life I now celebrate and enjoy. |
