I am a keeper of secrets.
A vessel for unwanted skeletons.
A blank wall for welcome graffiti.
A cushion for her fall.
A well to her water.
A balm for her wounds.
Every day, through my daughter, I’m relearning and reliving middle school angst: the daily attempts to find your place, your voice, yourself. Most of us remember the awkwardness of middle school. Everyone is physically and mentally developing at different paces. It’s a bizarre circus of constant changes. One day you may discover you no longer have anything in common with your best friend from elementary school. Another day you may start to wonder why your body isn’t perfect, because, in fact, it’s weird and you have hair growing in new places. You’re taught skinny is desirable and you also fervently want breasts. Some of your friends are boy crazy. Your feet are now bigger than your mom’s. Shopping at Justice for sequined unicorn shirts is a nightmare you’d rather forget.
The conflicts are many and the answers are few. This is where your mom comes in. So far, my daughter tells me (most) everything about her daily struggles and those of her friends and acquaintances. She might even tell me too much. I know her friends would say so. I’m equal parts honored and horrified to be the keeper of so many secrets. Vaping, drinking, cutting, eating disorders, and sexual exploration—it’s all happening. The majority of her revelations carry the strong admonishment that I can’t tell anyone. She second guesses her reasons for telling me and clams up when I dig too deep.
If her struggle is how to handle all the conflicts and changes, my struggle is what to do with these secrets. I think she needs to tell me. It helps her feel safe as the world whirls around her. On one hand, nurturing the open relationship with my daughter is my priority. On the other hand, if she was engaging in any of these risky behaviors I hope and pray someone would tell me. If she’s hiding a JUUL in her backpack, I want to know. If she’s sexting, for goodness sake, please tell me. I want to tell other parents. I really do. I want to say, “Your kid is out to his friends but hasn’t told you,” or, “Your kid is sending nudes and talking about sex, I think you should know.” It so hard to walk the fine line between keeping my promises to my daughter and warning other parents about theirs.
I’m also very aware that this “sharing’ is likely a phase. Maybe not knowing will be easier? Maybe I can just snoop text messages and computer histories like I do with my son?
In the meantime, my approach is three-pronged, and I’m only slightly confident it is a good one:
- I never, ever under any circumstances overreact to anything my child feels comfortable telling me. My immediate response to any information she shares, dictates what she will share in the future. This doesn’t mean I condone her peers’ actions. It means that I promise not to freak out no matter the subject matter. I have to keep that communication door open.
- Some secrets can’t remain secrets. We may need to brainstorm how to convey this information to another trusted adult. We need to figure out a way to do this without making my kid the school tattletale. I’ve promised not to tell just like she’s promised her friends not to tell. I’m the adult, though. I ultimately weigh the impact of broken promises against the potential of a broken kid. Maybe it’s encouraging her to have a deeper conversation with a friend in trouble. Or maybe it’s going to the school counselor for advice and support. And it just might be that Mom has to make a phone call to another parent in the interest of protecting that child.
- All of this necessitates a discussion about the temperament of her friends. While trying not to judge the actions of impulsive preteens and teens, I also am charged with keeping my child safe. Do we pull our troubled friends closer or push them away? This one is tough for me. I want to tuck each little injured bird under my wing and help him/her as best I can. Thing is, they aren’t my birds, and it’s likely I don’t know their whole story. Sometimes this takes some compromise. My daughter can hang out with so-and-so here but not at her house. She may balk at the restrictions but understands my concerns.
To tell, or not to tell: that is the question. I’m not full of perfect answers about secret-keeping. I’d love to know the strategies other parents use. Ultimately, we are all in this together. Our children interact inside and outside of school and need a level of independence to learn and grow. They also need us as buffers to the many vexing situations they will face until they fly from the nest. For now, I’m listening for as long as she’s willing to keep talking to me. In the middle of her anxiety, I’m all ears.
