From the moment our children are born, they begin their struggle for independence. We don’t realize it in their infancy, when they depend on us for every need, but as they grow, their independent nature begins to assert itself quickly. A common chant of the two-year-old is “I do it myself.” Some children transition into more independent stages without much difficulty, but for others it is a painful process for both parent and child.
For many families the pressure becomes particularly intense as the child enters adolescence and works toward that magical “adult” age of 18. Teens who are struggling for their independence often seem to want all of the privileges of being a child, while expecting the rights and freedoms granted to an adult. This process can drive parents to the brink of insanity, as these near-adults one minute ask for extra spending money or special groceries, and in the next minute shout that they don’t have to listen to anything you say because they’re not children anymore.
The difficulty experienced by parents in these situations stems mostly from the fear that their children will make poor choices. Parents want to continue to protect and guide their children, but in reality we must realize that after a certain point (which varies from child to child), we have to let go. We must give them more freedom and allow them to make their own mistakes, as painful as it may be for us to do so.
When my middle son was a senior in high school, we had moved to a new town, yet he wanted to finish high school with his friends. He was responsible for driving himself 30 miles to get to school each morning that year. This lead to many battles between us as he was often tardy, sometimes ran out of gas, came home late, and in every way tested how far he could push me with his newfound independence. The more I complained and pointed out his “mistakes,” the more he dug in and did just what he wanted. He turned 18 halfway through the year, and while he still lived under my roof, he had a lot of autonomy because of the school situation.
Just before spring break, he began talking about wanting to spend the summer living with a few friends. I balked; everything in my wanted to tell him what a horrible mistake this would be. He’d be wasting money he could use for college, he’d run out of grocery money, he’d be coming home every week to do laundry; not to mention all kinds of fears about drinking, drugs, and promiscuous behavior.
However, realizing that all of my lecturing, complaining and “guiding” hadn’t been very effective to that point, I decided to take another approach. The reality was that summer was still pretty far away. They weren’t signing any kind of lease that would bind them to live in this situation. It was just something they were talking about. I hedged my bets that night and offered him my full support. “If that’s what you really want to do, I’ll keep my eyes open for some things you’ll need like dishes and towels. I think you’ll enjoy having time to spend with your friends before college.”
The look on his face was something I hadn’t seen in several months. He was relieved. He smiled at me, hugged me and thanked me. He said, “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you support my decision mom.” After he went to bed, I, of course, ran through all the potential pitfalls again. Then I reminded myself that summer was still several weeks in the future. I decided to worry about it when, and if, it happened.
I was lucky in that my calculated risk paid off. I showed my son support for his decision, hoping against hope that it would never be a real issue. And it wasn’t. By the time they’d graduated, my son and his buddies had taken summer jobs and their finances weren’t such that would allow them to become roomies. I lost nothing by offering my support for his decision, but I gained his trust back after months of harping on him. He felt once again that he could come to me to discuss decisions without me blowing up and telling him why he was wrong.
While this strategy won’t work in every circumstance, as parents we can look for opportunities that will allow us to offer support without taking too much risk that our children will fall flat on their faces. We want them to be strong, independent adults one day. It’s just that they tend to want it, often, so much sooner than we do.
