Kids rebel when they hit adolescence–it’s simply a part of pulling away from their parents and creating self-identification.
Every kid does this differently–hair, clothes, grades, parties, eye rolling, politics, religion, tone of voice, apathy. Pick your poison. If you want to argue with me on this and say your kid is perfectly obedient, I will argue back and suggest you have raised a clone who can’t think for themselves. That’s called a co-dependent child and you have your own issues.
I also might argue teen girls do this “self-identification” the best. Boys are good but girls are better. Adolescent girls just have a knack for pushing hot buttons.
When I think about my lovely teenage daughter, I know I am blessed. She is kind, loving, Godly, a diligent student, an entrepreneur at heart, a gifted photographer, and beautiful inside and out. She makes friends easily and is a strong leader. I have it good, I know.
But on the flip side, my darling girl is also a skilled instigator. She can identify weakness in people as quick as Jason Bourne. In about 30 seconds flat, she knows what will yank your chain. It’s a terrible gift. And when the moment is right–bamm. You go down.
This girl knows what drives me bonkers–black bras under white shirts, booty shorts with cheeks showing, tiny bikinis, mean comments and tones, Demi Lovato and tongues sticking out like Miley Cyrus.
So, it’s guaranteed that every day with my daughter will involve one of these irritants.
My best coping skill to combat my teen terrorist, beyond prayer, has been the school uniform. The peace and happiness this one change made to our household in the mornings is truly priceless.
Junior High was a DISASTER! We used to struggle every morning. It was rare that any first outfit would pass muster and back up the stairs she would go. Occasionally she pulled a fast one and got out. We were at a stale-mate.
Together we would shop for and pick out clothes that are far too modest for her and far more revealing than I would like–but somewhere we met in the middle. Then we would bring the clothes home and she would wear them like crazy and dry them on hot until they either shrunk or she outgrew them and then they were perfect for her and another problem for me.
AAHHH!
The sad thing is, her clothes were modest compared to many of her friends, but the modest side of slutty is still skanky in my book.
Why oh why, you ask, do parent’s let their teen girls dress like a hussy?
It’s because the girls relentlessly wear them down! Day after day after day!
Enter the uniform for high school. Yes, it also involves private school. I know, I know, most people can’t afford it. We can’t afford it either, but we make it happen because:
It’s the best money ever spent in the history of parenting.
Blouses and sweaters and plaid skirts! Brilliant!
Now don’t get me wrong, girls will still try to rebel but the damage is limited in this arena.
AHHHH Peace!
My daughter comes down stairs in the morning with her Catholic girl skirt hiked up to her naval, but I can take a deep breath and let it go, because there is a neurotic ladies dean waiting for her at school with all-knowing eyes to give her detention. The pressure is off me!
On the first day of school, her cheer friend got three detentions! One for too short, and two more for every roll. Ouch! My girl has learned the tricks–she doesn’t roll, she just hikes. Smart huh?
Is this payback for my indiscretions?
I know it could be worse. My son decided to express himself through hair, one time he died it white and there were a few pre-season mohawks with blue hair before football. We rolled through that mess and kept it light. It’s just hair we said and laughed it off.
I wish I could say the same about my girl–it’s just ass–but I can’t. I want to protect her and keep her safe like all parents do. Modesty and sexuality are scary topics with girls. The stakes are higher.
No parent is ready for the darker side of letting go. I don’t want her to get hurt. I don’t want some boy to use her for sex and leave her heart-broken. I want my girl to value her beauty far beyond her looks. I want her to know she is worth so much more than what the world will tell her. She is not an object! And darn it, I want her to figure this out before age 35–like I did.
Deep breath. More prayer.
The uniforms help.
Someday soon she will dress herself without mom around and I imagine, that without me (and her step-dad) to piss off and other teenage girls to impress, she’ll probably dress quite nicely. Maturity will sneak up before I know it because I believe she knows she is loved. And God has her back.
In the meantime, the uniform (and prayer) is my best friend!
–Samantha
