Once upon a time in a land not so far away, lived a silly teen girl who would slam her bedroom door when things didn’t go her way. Fast forward, the said girl’s daughter also did the same thing. People, have you ever watched your own stupid behaviour present itself in your child? I’m sorry, mother In the words of Susan Mayer, a character in the comedy-drama TV show, Desperate Housewives, being dramatic is the birthright of every teenager, or so they think. My mom is sweet and kind and patient, and I’m, how do I put this lightly, NOT— a reminder that I give my daughter often— ‘I am not my mother’. Slam that door one more time, I threaten. I’d unhinge the thing if it wasn’t too much trouble. If I say no to an impromptu get-together, her reaction will determine my response to the next. She now understands that I do not like out-of-the-blue proggie. Who tells you about a birthday party on that very day? Let’s wait for the next one. She has slowly but surely learnt that outbursts won’t get her the results she wants. She understands it is important to apologise, though she needs to do it because she wants to, not because she has to. ‘Friends’ and social media When she got her first phone, we limited the interaction to calls. ‘There is nothing you are missing on social media,’ I told her. ‘Why are you there,’ she asked. It was a good question, but good answers have never come to me slower, so I did what any parent would do—I snapped. ‘First of all, I am not the child here, you are. I need you to listen to me, not ask questions.’ The internet is a dangerous place, I often tell her. Some people may seem ‘cool’ online, but their intentions are excerpts from the ‘book of purgatory’. When she joined Instagram, I switched to stalker mode in 5D. I didn’t even know I had it in me. Friends, I stalk with no boundaries. What is she posting? Who is liking her posts? I read each and every single comment, and then I stalk them too, starting with @sexy_paul with the thug hairdo. ‘Who is that?’ I ask. ‘A classmate.’ ‘Impossible. Why does he look 35? Those eyes have seen at least three decades.’ ‘I do not know how to answer that but we are in the same class,’ she says. ‘Eh. Okay. What about the others?’ ‘Some are schoolmates, others are friends of friends,’ she says. This one is a never-ending conversation, a constant reminder that followers are not friends so don’t get too comfortable with them. Mirror Mirror As stated in my last article, I am a firm believer in letting people express themselves, dress code, tattoos, and piercings, whatever. Then one day, she dropped it on me. ‘Can I get my bellybutton pierced?’ She asked. ‘Why would you want to do that?’ I asked. ‘Because it looks cool and many of my friends did it,’ she said. ‘You should’ve stopped with ‘because it looks cool’, we can’t do things because your friends did them too, Cherie. Be different. Do you.’ ‘But you also did it,’ she said, using my own behaviour against me. The audacity. ‘Yeah. When I was 25. You have seven more years to go.’ Next issue, please. Nothing irks me like overly long fingernails, the kind you see in Cardi B music videos. I used to bite my fingernails. She doesn’t (hallelujah). She has very beautiful natural nails that I ask her to cut every now and then because they are much cuter that way. ‘Can I get nail extensions?’ she asked. ‘But sincerely, why?’ I responded with grave annoyance. ‘They look nice.’ ‘Yeah, if you are a video vixen. What’s next, a multi-coloured mohawk, tongue piercing?’ Basically, I’m okay with how people choose to look, and what they do to their own bodies, as long as that person doesn’t ‘live for free’ under my care. I actually love her style, she seems to prefer baggy clothing, and is not a fan of skimpy outfits (thank God. She also has her very girly moments. Enter makeup. ‘Eh, you went to school with a fresh face and I now see eyeliner. What’s up?’ ‘A friend put it on for me,’ she said. ‘But do you really need eyeliner at school?’ I then remembered one morning as I walked my youngest to her class at their school, I saw a girl whose face was covered in what I imagined was a small factory of makeup. To this day, I am okay going out with just lotion on my face. But that’s me. I am, however, learning from her that a little lipstick never hurt anyone. But I also emphasise that as a student, it’s better to eliminate the unnecessary stress of ‘is there lipstick on my teeth?’ Or ‘is my eyeshadow still visible?’ Weight. Tricky business this one. What do you say to your teen who suddenly feels ‘fat’? She came from school one day, not her usual bubbly self. I asked what was wrong, she said nothing. ‘It can’t be nothing, this is not you.’ She asked for time. Okay, I said, because I didn’t want to agitate her further. Later, she came to my room. ‘I was feeling a bit sick because I haven’t eaten anything all day.’ ‘Why haven’t you eaten?’ ‘Some girl told me yesterday that I have gained weight and it bothered me.’ ‘I am sorry someone made you feel this way. First of all, eat something, then we talk. I worry you might pass out while I’m talking.’ We had a very lengthy conversation; yes, as her mother I am going to tell her that she is smart, beautiful and can do anything she puts her mind to. She is and she can. But we live in a society that finds it okay to utter the first thing that comes to mind, regardless of how rude it is; you have gained weight; you look too thin…bla bla bla. ‘Now, dear child, if you go extreme every time someone says something rude, you’ll end up depressed and possibly even suicidal. Whatever you do in life, do it for you. Let us discuss a healthier approach. But the question is, is it really what YOU want? Do YOU look at yourself in the mirror and dislike what YOU see?’ I have always known her to be very comfortable in her skin, something I greatly admire, but it shows how strong peer influence is. ‘If next time what’s-her-face says one eye is smaller than the other, what will you do? Don’t fret, don’t compare yourself to anyone else, when you feel good about yourself, you’re more likely to have good self-esteem and mental health.’ Hopefully, we are past that. Responsible, not reckless I have over emphasised kidnapping not just to my younger child, but my teenage girl too. She seems to think she is too old to be kidnapped. The concept of going out with friends and ending up in a strange place is bizarre to her. So I explain that many girls have found themselves in this situation, possibly from a spiked drink. The ‘spikers’ are usually people you know and think you can trust. I remember my own recklessness, drinking like it was going extinct, or getting rides from strangers, to name a few. ‘Alcohol will only inhibit your capacity to think straight and make a safer decision,’ I told her. I started drinking when I was very young, you’d think by now I would be satisfied. She knows this, which is exactly why I would prefer she doesn’t do it at all, because contrary to popular opinion, you can still have lots of fun sober. To be honest, I don’t think I’m strong enough to raise a little version of myself. I know how hard I was and I know that I have penance to pay. I know my teenager will push boundaries, but as her mother, I must push back. I am under no illusion that how I want it is how it will be, but I am here to hold her hand for as long as she needs me to.
