It’s been awhile since I’ve shared anything on this blog. I was searching through drafts I hadn’t touched in more than a year and I ran across this blog prompt:
What advice would you give to your teenage self?
If I could speak to my teen self I would say: Pay attention to mom and dad’s counsel and prompts; dad was more direct, mom more cryptic and roundabout—I swear she could’ve worked for the CIA. 😂
Mom and dad were right. Had I genuinely listened to them and followed their counsel with finesse, I wouldn’t have had to learn so many hard lessons. I wouldn’t be writing this in my 50s.
Learning lessons is vital to growth and survival, but they don’t have to be difficult or torturous— we choose the level and degree of intensity by naively or ignorantly believing we know better than the wiser ones counseling us, and the warning signs posted along the way. I’ve got the battle wounds to prove it!
Friends, How Many of Us Have Them?
I never knew that friends could backstab so intensely, with two-faced precision. My parents tried to warn me, even pointing out a few that I thought were honorable and loyal. The thing to consider about my teen years is that I was a teen from high school until three months into my junior year of college.
My parents tried to prepare me for the chaos and confusion of my teens, high school, and adulthood. Being a 13-year-old freshman in high school was difficult enough, throw in boys, rank-seeking girls, sociopolitical issues, and the awkwardness of trying to fit in while trying to be oneself— I can now say that I see why some parents and educators think that high school should be split up, with 9th and 10th graders coexisting in a separate space from 11th and 12th graders, who in most cases are already 18 and 19-year-old adults at the start of the fall school year. There are dynamics that are at play that younger students aren’t ready for, hence the recklessness.
As a 17-year old college freshman I had classmates my age and up to five years older. So I found myself trying to grow up fast to better align with those already older than me, who often teased me for being younger. We don’t realize that being teased can also be a trap.
Trying to prove your maturity usually leads to immature results.
FOMO Can Lead to FAFO
I don’t have personal stories of drugs, alcohol, wild parties, or criminal activity in high school or college. I didn’t drink or take drugs and every party I went to was laid back, drama-free, and ended at a parent-approved hour; with one exception:
In high school, I attended a party that a friend was throwing and she really wanted me to be there. My parents always wanted to speak to my friend’s parents before I went anywhere. There was one problem with this request, my friend’s mother was deaf and wouldn’t be able to communicate with my mom over the phone, so my friend put on her “adult voice” and pretended to be her mom. My mom eventually agreed to let me attend the party, but with conditions that I knew not to test.
Thankfully, my friends took my parents seriously and kept all alcohol and drugs away from me by repeating what sounded like a mantra “Keep that away from her. Her parents will kick our a___,” and they even kept me safe indoors when a fight broke out, the police came to shut things down, and let their dogs loose on the crowd.
Clearly, my parents had molded quite a reputation at my school and no one wanted to FAFO. We may have had the awe of God filling us but we most definitely had the horrifying fear of my parents rushing through our veins.
Needless to say, I didn’t really enjoy myself at the party. It was cool being around some of my friends outside of school, but there were just too much going on all at the same time. It felt more like a social experiment.
There were too many people so it felt cramped and at times overwhelming. I walked around observing in awe. The fighting that broke out is now a blur, I know it was boys, but I don’t recall the reason. I do remember the police sirens and later hearing people screaming outside “They let the dogs loose,” and the first thing that crossed my mind was “My parents are gonna kick my ___.” 😂
After that experience I didn’t go to “wild” parties and by the time I reached college I avoided frat parties and most house parties.
About 15 or 20 years ago, I rehashed the story to my mom she laughed and said, “Did you really think I thought ______ was her mother? I know a child’s voice. I let you go so you could see for yourself and I trusted you would call us if you needed us.”
That’s what I get for thinking I was pulling the wool over OG Mom’s eyes. See, doesn’t that feel like some CIA training tactics?
They See What You Can’t Just Yet
I can look back at every decision I made as a teen and I can hear my parents voices that I chose to ignore or only partially follow. As a teen, I knew and felt my parents love and protection, but when the traps they warned me about appeared, they didn’t look like scary traps but rather mysterious portals. I assumed my parents couldn’t know-it-all and had to be wrong about some things; I mean, heck, they made mistakes too.
I clearly ignored my parents disclaimers about how things and people can be disguised as good, safe, and healthy. My parents used to tell me to slow down, be present, and that adulthood wasn’t something to rush towards. However, I was too focused on my 5, 10, and 20 year goals to heed their warning. As a result, stress and anxiety learned how to tag team me, and since I hadn’t learned how to close the door on them, they taught me some indelible lessons— what we fear and obsessively focus on will magnificently manifest in such a grand and audacious way that dwarfs the initial fear.
There’s so much more I would say to my younger self now. Perhaps some conversations with our younger selves are too layered for a single blog post. Maybe that’s why some reflections eventually become books.
Stay tuned!
Love always,
~Natasha
Natasha 