For those of you that are female, and have had the joy and pleasure of giving birth to a daughter; you should be able to figure out what’s behind the topic of my post.
My daughter turns sixteen on Thanksgiving Day. She’s everything I am and everything I wished I’d be. From a completely biased mother’s perspective; she’s practically perfect in every way. Except she drives me crazy.
Raising a daughter that is so like me has been one of the greatest challenges of my life. The things that drive me nuts about myself are of course, genetically ingrained in her. She’s a veritable derivative of me, and because she is; she has the propensity to drive me crazy! I mean, come on, the kid never shuts up, can talk her way out of anything, and she doesn’t have an off button. Just like me.
Those same qualities about myself are the qualities that my husband finds endearing in both of us. Those qualities, when used in the right way, had a little something to do with some degree of success that I’ve managed to achieve in my forty-one years.
My husband says the battles in our home sometimes feels like he’s witnessing a constant fight for female supremacy. Before now, I happily carried the matriarchal torch all by myself. After all, who’s in charge here anyway? Someone’s gotta be, and of course, that’s gotta be me. My mother said it. Her mother said it. All good mother’s say it, “It’s my home and my way or the highway. When you move out and pay the bills, you’ll be in charge.” For sixteen years; I’ve exhaled the mantra.
But, recently, something’s changed. My child has grown into a young lady. She has real thoughts and concerns about the way things ought to be and she wants to share them, in her own voice and in her own way. And, someone has to listen, and that’s gotta be me. How else can my daughter learn to pass her own matriarchal torch someday?
So, despite myself and every female particle in my body screaming, “Don’t do it! Don’t let her control her own life! She’s just a kid”! I know it’s time to let her make some of her own decisions. Next week my little girl will be driving herself around in a two ton vehicle. I won’t be there to help her to navigate around the bicyclist on a winding road, nor be there to coax her into a gentle stop at a red light. I’ll have to trust her to do it on her own and in her own way.