Dear Vix,
I feel like I’m losing my teenage daughter and I don’t know what to do.
We were always close – when she was little, she would hold my hand constantly, wherever we went. She would climb into bed with me in the middle of the night and we would watch ‘Peppa Pig’ together! She would never go to sleep without me and would always kiss me goodnight.
Now she is 14, and I feel like I’m living with a stranger. She’s constantly in her bedroom, on her phone – and doesn’t want to spend any time with me. She only wants to be with her friends.
Far from saying goodnight, now she leaves the house for school without telling me she’s going... all I hear is the door slamming behind her. When I try to engage with her at dinner time and ask her how her day was, she just shrugs and gives one-word answers like “fine” or “boring”. I have no idea if she’s happy or sad, whether she has a boyfriend or a girlfriend... she doesn’t tell me anything!
It feels like heartbreak. Like I’m grieving. Like I’ve lost her. Please help. I just don’t know how to get her back.
Sad Parent
Dear Sad Parent,
You’ve got right to the heart of something many (if not all) parents feel and worry about. It is heartbreak and grief – you are right. You are missing the bond you had and the closeness you shared with your little girl. It’s perfectly natural that you’re experiencing this period of change and separation as an aching loss.
Our teenage years are the time we begin to differentiate ourselves from our parents; a period in which we learn to think and learn for ourselves. Growing apart from our caregivers is actually a vital tool in growth and development. But while, to an extent, this is normal – that doesn’t stop it from feeling extraordinarily painful.
I still remember making the conscious decision not to kiss my parents goodnight, at about 14. After watching something together in the family TV room, I got up from the sofa and casually threw a “g’night” over my shoulder, heart thumping as I took the stairs to my bedroom. Now, decades later, I can’t remember what my reasoning was for not kissing them anymore – only that I suddenly felt I was too old to do that. I didn’t think about how they must have felt about this sudden absence of closeness until years later; until I, too, became a parent.
Handily enough, this week I’ve been reading a book on understanding teenage girls with my own daughter, who’s 13. She keeps asking me to read sections aloud: she’s particularly interested in what it says teenage girls are mainly interested in – from sex and relationships to social media, from politics and birth control and eating disorders, to grades and social justice. As I read each topic out, last night, she told me “yes” or “not yet” or asked me what it meant. At one point she said she assumed I wasn’t “half as political, when I was her age”. She was shocked when I told her she was wrong.
It made me realise, while reading the book (Underestimated: The Wisdom and Power of Teenage Girls by Chelsey Goodan, in case you were wondering – and this isn’t a review, simply personal interest) that teenage girls particularly often feel these three things: unheard, misunderstood and invisible.
It reminded me of how much passion, feeling and emotion is bubbling away beneath the surface when you’re in your teens; thinking back, I remember clearly how angry I felt, how aware of injustice, how catastrophic and cataclysmic everything felt inside my body – even when it was “just” a crush.
And, crucially, how I felt like I couldn’t tell my parents – because how could they possibly understand?
The first part of rebuilding your relationship with your daughter, I believe, is improving your awareness and understanding of what she’s (probably) thinking and feeling. Try role modelling, too – if you don’t want her staring at her phone during dinner, make sure you’re never staring at yours. Try talking about how you’re finding it hard to detox yourself from being Very Online; ask her if she wants to join you in trying to be phone-free for that 30-minute meal time, once a day. Take it slowly, at first. Celebrate the small wins.
Here’s what the book recommends we do when we feel disconnected from our teen: resist offering a “fix” every time they express a feeling, frustration or big emotion. Rather than scolding them or telling them what they should be doing, ask them one simple question: “Do you want me to offer advice or a solution, or do you just want to vent?” If we hold space for them to talk about how they feel, the hope is that they’ll feel validated and closer to us. They might even then come to us for the advice we are gagging to give.
Stop asking closed questions such as “How was school?” (“fine”) or “What did you do today?” (“nothing”). Try being curious, instead – even though it may feel counterintuitive in a “typical” parent-child dynamic. Leave space for thoughtful answers (or even just ranting). “Did anyone annoy you today?” would be a good one, in my experience. “What was the best thing about today?” might be another to try. Ask her about her friends – by name. Prove you’ve been listening. Show that you’re interested in what interests her.
Keep her secrets. A key part of helping teenagers develop healthy boundaries is not breaking them to begin with. If your teen tells you something and says “don’t tell anyone”, then – unless it’s a serious or safeguarding issue – don’t. Become their safe haven, their trusted person. We want them to talk to us – even if they’re in trouble.
Lastly, the book suggests we ask our teens to tell us “one thing they wish adults understood about them”. I tried it with my daughter – what she said moved me deeply. But I can’t tell you, because I’m keeping mum. That’s my job. I have every faith you’re doing yours.
Do you have a problem you would like to raise anonymously with Dear Vix? Issues with love, survey or email dearvix@independent.co.uk
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