Something I have come to accept about myself, even more now than what I thought before, is that I need alone time. I need alone time to regulate. When I’ve had solitude, a chance to process and decipher the reasons for some of my actions or inactions, I feel like I can face the world again. My energy doesn’t feel depleted and my reserves are replenished. What solidified this for me was the recognition that the absence of absence dysregulates me. When I don’t get an opportunity to live in quiet, my emotions topple over and spill out like sour milk. I experienced that recently. Let me explain.
My 16-year-old daughter is beautiful, smart, friendly, kind spirited, compassionate, sometimes funny. I love her not only because she is my daughter, but I like her as a human being… sometimes. My love for her is unconditional,my fondness however, is a whole other story.
The opposite side of her is very much like her father — manipulative, controlling, overbearing, stubborn (she gets that from both of us), and unyielding. When these parts of her manifest, it triggers me. It’s crazy that your child can mimic your past oppressor without even knowing it.
Two weeks ago, my daughter got it in her head that she would no longer stand for the dictatorship that her father exudes when she is with him. She was fed up.
I, as her mother and as a witness to his rigidity, always understood the suffocating feeling of his fragile and unpredictable temperament. So I often made space for her to express those emotions.
What I understand now is that I’ve made too much space for her to use those emotions as a means to manipulate my heart.
So, let me get into what happened two weeks ago.
She and my 12 (almost 13) year-old daughter joined the track team. This is the school’s no cut sport, so no tryouts. No matter your skill level you can participate.
It is the most popular sport at the school because of the excitement around being at a track meet all day with friends and people from other schools with little supervision. That is at least what attracts my oldest.
Side Note: When track season started, she didn’t even make it to the first couple of practices. Her excuse one time was that she couldn’t go because she accidentally brought her flare leggings.
We had a very frustrating conversation that day.
Anyway, there was a track meet coming up on Saturday where the kids were to be with their dad. Knowing this she called to let him know she had been selected to go to the first track meet. Of course he said that would be a conversation they needed to have in person. That was code for “you didn’t earn it, so you can’t go.”
She hung up the phone and immediately started announcing her plans to go to the meet anyway. I just laughed and told her couldn’t just leave the house and go to the track meet.
The next day I said my goodbyes and I love yous as I dropped the three of them off at school.
On Fridays they get out at 1pm, and at about 1:45 I get a message from their dad saying that our oldest was not with him and that he was going home because he couldn’t find her. (She never came out of the school.)
He tried to call her but she didn’t answer
I called her and she picked up right away.
She told me that she was SO over him controlling her life. She explained that she doesn’t want to miss out on the opportunity she has this track season (insert eye roll). And then she went on to say that if she has to go over there she is going to run away.
Her words were “I’m just going to leave.”
I wouldn’t have believed her if she didn’t actually leave my home in October because of a blowout we had. This post will turn into a novel if I break down that episode, so we will get into that another time. But that precedent cued up my protective spirit and my brain went “I have to rescue her!”
On my way to the school, I communicated to him that she threatened to run away if I dropped her off with him and out of concern for her safety she would be coming home with me.
That entire weekend went by in a blink. She went to the track meet, I celebrated my sister’s birthday and I can’t even remember what happened on Sunday. Not because of too much partying, but because it really did go by in a blink. I just remember feeling busy.
I had the day off that Monday and I was enjoying the quiet. I felt such gratitude and soon realized that I needed that time. I made up my mind that my daughter needed to be with her dad, even though I felt like I was being selfish for wanting to throw her back in his arms.
So when I picked her up from school that day, I felt guilty but I dropped the news anyway.
She, of course, proceeded to pitch a fit.
“I’m not going back over there. I’m just going to leave.”
This time I told her, “I cannot support that, and you will cause more trouble for yourself than its worth. I will help you as much as I can, but I cannot interfere with his parenting time.”
While she was pitching her fit I told her in an unconcerning tone “You have 15 minutes to get ready to leave.” That was my attempt at standing up for myself and keeping my feelings leveled.
When we arrived, he basically shut the door in our face. There were some words in between, but you don’t need to know what they were, just that they were filled with assholery comments and we went home after that.
That whole process was riddled with anxiety. I was nervous about how he would respond, and about what kind of punishment he was going to impress on her. And the fact that the outcome was one that I didn’t predict heightened my emotions even more.
The rest of the week she was with me was fine but she was invading my privacy. And where I would normally regulate my nervous system after such a vexatious situation , I couldn’t.
The time I have away from the kids is the time I take to reset, expel my frustrations and inhale new energy for the week they return. I didn’t get that.
The following week, when I picked up my middle daughter and son, I was already irritable. My patience was short and my fuse was already lit. I had no nerves left for them to stand on.
That is what it feels like when we don’t get a break.
To escalate the situation even further, my 16 year old’s actions that week were infuriating.
She texts me one day when she is at track practice: “You can come get me now.” It was 5:13 when she sent the message. I had just gotten home with the other two about 20 minutes prior and was about to sit down to eat dinner. Mind you, practice usually ends around 6:15, but I tell her I’m on my way because it’s not necessarily uncommon for practice to end early some days. I drop everything and go.
I went to the local middle school where they usually practice and didn’t see any one. I thought “Shit, they must be practicing at their school today. Why didn’t she tell me that?” So I have to back track.
I get to the school and I don’t see anyone outside. Curious, because when practice ends there are usually several kids outside waiting for their parents. When she gets in the car I ask, “Why did they end practice early?” She responds, “Girl! They are still running. But it’s too hot and I couldn’t take it. Also, the coach didn’t pick me for the track meet this Saturday.”
I am immediately furious. I’ve been played!
This moment happened at the beginning of the week and if I was running on fumes before, now I was running on busted tires and wearing out the rims.
Thursday rolls around and she texts me again, “We talked about this but I don’t know if you remember. There is a mandatory cheer meeting today at 430.”
In my head I screamed “HELL FUCKING NAW! I AIN’T DOING THIS SHIT AGAIN!”
Cheer season runs the same time as volleyball season. Volleyball is something she claimed she loved to do and wanted to try to do in college. She isn’t pro level, but she does well enough. Now she wants to throw that away so she can cheer again. She ditched cheer this year because she made the volleyball team. I’m so confused!
Anyway, I reeled in my emotions and tried to talk to her about it in very short and pointed text messages. She finally texted back “I’ve made my decision…”
Fed up, my response was: “I’m not going to the meeting. You can either find a ride or walk home.”
She walked.
The entire week, I was crawling out of bed at the last minute. There were at least two days I didn’t shower. One morning I cried for no reason. I just felt sad and exhausted.
I’ll tell you that he often protests that our children do whatever they want when they are with me, and he has to overcompensate when they are with him because I don’t discipline them.
He isn’t entirely right, but where he is correct however, is that I am not as stern or unforgiving. I talk to them in an effort to help them understand their actions, and my punishment doesn’t come from a place of uncompromising correction, but from a place of love, which can be seen as soft. So soft sometimes that I feel like I end up punishing myself instead of them.
I am learning that I have given them so much freedom to express their emotions that they become disrespectful at times. I am learning I have a tendency to want to take on their feelings as my own when they share their weekly recap of the time spent with their father, to protect them. Understandably, or so my therapist has said, it’s normal to do that when you have escaped an abusive marriage.
It’s natural to want to guard your children from what you experienced, but if you aren’t careful you’ll end up giving them too much space to exaggerate the situation and they’ll end up manipulating you to get what they want.
This rings true for my 16 year old daughter.
Case and point – she pitched a fit, threatened to run away and I rescued her. I let her manipulate me by using her knowledge of the pain he caused me.
Yes, I knew she wasn’t taking track seriously, but I didn’t factor that in when I thought I heard a cry for help. I didn’t think of that when she threatened to escape his grasp, because that is what I wanted to do when I was with him.
I stumbled into the trap.
I learned a lot over the past couple of weeks. Becoming whole again means admitting the mistakes I make and being willing to correct them. And needing my time away from the kids or longing for quiet doesn’t make me a bad parent. Taking advantage of the quiet makes me a stronger parent.
I love my children fiercely. But now I’m learning to love myself fiercely too.
So much so that I’ve decided to accept whatever disciplinary action he chooses to enforce. I don’t have to like it, but the reality is – they all may need a little assholery in their life. I’ve said that before, but I didn’t mean it like I do now.
My oldest will be an adult soon and she needs to learn that running away from hard situations or manipulating people to avoid them will only get you so far. She needs to learn that never applying yourself to anything and expecting everything to be handed to you leads to unstable outcomes.
I refuse for her to be dependent on me for the rest of her life.
This is the hard part…setting boundaries for myself that will eventually force her to become who she needs to be.
I know it may feel cruel at first but I will have to remind myself that it is the most loving thing I can do for her.
And maybe the most loving thing I can do for myself.
All The Good Things 
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