I used to think that I couldn’t be friends with my kids. I needed to be the authority figure and they wouldn’t respect me or listen to me if we were friends. This was reinforced by my first husband’s strict nature. I had seen those kids that back-talked their parents, ordered them around, refused to listen to them, and that wasn’t going to be us dangit. They were kids, we were adults, and kids listened to adults and didn’t get in adult business.
I probably yelled too much in those early parenting years. We had very high expectations of our oldest daughter and that’s how she had been raised up until then by her dad and grandmother. I fell right in step and expected her to keep her room clean, bathe without arguing, feed and walk the dog, and all with no sass. I didn’t believe in spanking, but I did believe in grounding and did that freely.
I may be painting a bleak picture but there was more. The three of us were tight knit, and I relished in and documented every single thing she did. We had fun trips and adventures, much love and family time, and we adored her. I just put a huge responsibility upon myself to have everything turn out perfect for our family and that meant trying to control it all, including her.
She grew up and went through some crazy times in her teen and young adult years, and things spun out of my control as I tried desperately to keep a grasp on it all. I needed to keep her safe, keep us all safe, make sure she was on the right track, doing the right things, with the right people, getting an education, being responsible, the list goes on. My therapist finally said… WHY are you doing this to yourself?! It wasn’t working.
So I set her free, so to speak. Removed all financial connections so I didn’t have to bug her nonstop for her bill money. Stopped trying to dictate where she went and with whom. I hoped with all my heart that she would be safe and be ok, but I had to stop micromanaging her life. Although I think for many years she carried the baggage of our parenting style, that decision changed our relationship in a powerful and positive way.
In the meantime I was still juggling four younger kids with a similar strict “adults are bigger than kids” style. It wasn’t until their dad and I separated that I realized I wanted to change that. I wanted to be open with my kids, not run upstairs to cry quietly and secretly. I wanted them to know I was human and to treat them like humans. I longed for fostering close relationships with them as they got older and not having this strict barrier.
My oldest will complain regularly now that the younger kids have it sooooo much easier. I guess they do, I admit. I think it’s pretty typical that parents start to chill out as the years go by, but I also deliberately worked hard to do better. My kids didn’t become those kids who order their parents around, but they did let me be a part of their inner circles as they grew up. I still don’t allow cell phones in their bedrooms overnight, I must know where they are at all times, no staying out super late and all that. I’m still “strict” compare to some parents, and my kids let me know that (I’m the ONLY parent who does that!).
But I’m friends with my two oldest daughters, with my son, with my two younger daughters. We are friends. We talk, we laugh, they confide in me. My two oldest tell me EVERYTHING, sometimes too much haha (do I need to know your friend did THAT?). My youngest is often stuck to me like glue, even at 14. I’m proud. I look around at them and I’m like holy crap I made these humans and I made tons of mistakes and screwed things up, but I think they actually LIKE me! Some of them even want to be with me instead of in their rooms. They lean on me, depend on me, come to me when things are hard and they are in pain, lean into our relationships. Gah, that feels amazing!
I can be their mom and we can still be friends.