She needed me, but she didn’t want me.

I heard myself say this to a friend the other day as we were commiserating and swapping stories about our beautiful and complex teenagers. When those words came out of my mouth, my friend stopped me. He shared the powerful sentiment and agreed that this phrase pretty much summed up his last five years parenting his now 21-year-old.

I have to say, the way we show up during these tricky years as parents is truly a form of martial arts. When I see my kids in pain or on the brink of making an inconsiderate or impulsive choice, I want so badly to scream from the roof tops, “I know the answer! If you just open your ears, I could save you a lot of heartache!”

But let’s be real, how arrogant is that?

I mean, sure, I’ve worked hard to learn how to trust, to pause, and to speak my truth. But how did I get there? By stumbling through my own messes. By failing, flailing, and figuring it out. The same way they will.

We’ve all heard some version of the statement, “the only way out is through.” And wow, is that the truth. In order to grow and thrive in their own ways, our kids need to learn as they go, the same way we did. The heartbreak, the missteps, the awkward silences, the cringe texts. That’s how they become whole, wise, and resilient. And they certainly don’t benefit from us filling in the answer sheet for them every step of the way. And please believe me when I say, I am learning this the hard way on a daily basis.

Still, let’s be honest. We want to be wanted.

We secretly hope they’ll choose us over TikTok, Instagram, over their friends, over the great intoxicating pull of Not Needing Their Parents. That longing? That’s our story. Our work. Because the truth is, sometimes they won’t want us. They just won’t.

But they’ll still need us.

And that is where it gets crunchy, for them and for us. I’m beginning to think this might be the source of a lot of teenage angst: the maddening dissonance between needing us and really, really not wanting to. And I think we can all agree that the feeling of inner conflict is… well, downright shitty. Sometimes it can present as moody and withdrawn, and other times it comes out as rude and sarcastic. Or all of the above.

So how do we know when they actually  need us to step in? Especially when their entire vibe is saying, “Please disappear, thank you.”

That’s the dance. The beautiful & crunchy dance.

We’re learning, often the hard way (or at least I am) how to meet them where they are without stepping on their toes (or their dignity). How to guide them without insulting them. There’s no one-size-fits-all approach, but there are a few trusty pillars we can lean on:

Knowledge that this is all part of the process. This is their wild journey into becoming more independent. And remembering that this independence grows out of having a strong sense of dependency on a trusted adult. Sometimes we can hold the weight of this knowledge by ourselves, but most of the time, we need a little help. Do not underestimate the power of a good friend, partner, therapist, or relative to help hold knowledge when you can’t quite do it yourself.

Trust that you are totally equipped for this, and so are they. As they’re learning to navigate this wild juxtaposition, we are also going through our own parenting (and personal!) growing pains. Trust that even when it’s messy, even when it hurts like hell, growth is happening on both sides.

And Pause. Before you say anything, remember to pause and take a breath. Assess the situation. Feel into them and into what they need. (Note: this is not the same thing as what we think we need to teach them… such a hard one to separate sometimes.) The power of the pause is truly the antidote for reactions that often don’t land so well. In the pause your wisdom gets to catch up to your emotion. One breath goes along way, doesn’t it? When you pause before you speak, you are more capable of reflecting what you hear, and not what you think. Trust me when I say, this is a total game changer in parent/child relationships.

And all that said, it is still our job to pepper in gentle reminders even if it falls on seemingly deaf ears. That is our job. So yes, we are allowed to say every time they leave the house: “No pills, no powders, where your seat belt….” you get my drift.

So, next time you have that itch to feel wanted by your teen, do your best to remember that this is them presenting in a totally normal, healthy, and even necessary way. They’re growing and learning independent of us, and of course we want that for them. Also remember that they do still need us, even when they don’t want to need us. Use the pillars of knowledge, trust, and pause to hold that steady foundation for them, especially in the moments when they’re pushing us away. Continue to be their safe space and the dock that they know they can always swim back to as they jut off to learn life lessons about themselves.

Thanks for reading. We are in this together.