- I’m raising a teenager, and I often feel that none of my choices is right.
- Parenting right now often feels like the “Barbie” monologue where we can’t do anything right.
- I wonder what he’s going to remember as an adult and what he’s going to forget.
My teenage son was about to miss a school deadline. We’d spent the last few days mapping out a plan: breaking down the project into manageable pieces, setting reminders, checking in here and there. But when the final weekend of the due date arrived, Joey wasn’t working on it. He wasn’t panicking, either. He was on his phone.
I stood in the kitchen with my coffee, frozen in that familiar parenting dance. Should I demand he work on the assignment now, or should I stay quiet, letting him manage his own time?
Neither choice felt right.
If I stepped in, would I be an overbearing helicopter parent hovering too close? But if I let it go, would I be failing him by taking away adult support to guide his follow-through practice?
And then a bigger, deeper question that always surfaces for me: In the grand scheme of parenting and all that’s happening in the world, is this even something worthy of such contemplation?
Parenting in today’s day and age feels like an impossible task.
Parenting feels like the famous ‘Barbie’ monologue
Courtesy of the author
The iconic “Barbie” monologue still lingers with me even more than a year after its release — not because it’s about parenting (it’s not) but because Greta Gerwig gave words to something both deeply personal and undeniably universal. The monologue, powerfully delivered by America Ferrera, calls out the contradictory expectations and impossible standards placed on women.
I think parenting is like that, too.
It is literally impossible to be a parent. You love your child so deeply, and it’s heartbreaking to worry that it’s not enough. Like, we need to be extraordinary at this difficult thing all the time, no matter what, and somehow, there’s always someone saying we’re doing it wrong.
You’re supposed to raise independent kids, but not so independent that they feel abandoned. You want them to be fully themselves but also protect them from a world that isn’t understanding. You have to discipline them, but not too harshly, or you’ll damage them. Be patient but not permissive. Cherish every moment, but don’t forget to think about and prepare them for the future.
You have to balance being their authority figure and their empathetic listener. You need to stay calm, even when you’re completely exhausted. You’re supposed to love your career, but never let it interfere with your family. You’re supposed to provide them with every opportunity but also don’t spoil them.
You can’t admit how hard it is because that might make it seem like you don’t love them enough. And if they struggle in any way — socially, academically, emotionally — that’s your fault. Didn’t you read the right parenting books? Take the right classes? Use the right tone?
And, on top of all that, how do we know which moments will matter most?
I wonder what he’s going to remember about me as a parent
I wonder what Joey will remember from these years and what he won’t.
I think about my own childhood and how certain moments stayed while others quietly fell away. I remember an afternoon when the kids in my neighborhood made fun of me for not knowing how to ride my bike without training wheels. My dad shooed them away, and even though I didn’t magically learn to ride that day, I felt protected and watched over.
Years later, I was in a minor fender bender on my way to high school. Still a bit rattled after exchanging insurance information, I drove home instead of heading to school and called my dad. He explained that this wasn’t a time to retreat but a time to keep going. So, to school I went.
Or the night my mom stayed up late helping me clean my room, even though I was the one who made the mess. I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t start, and instead of lecturing me, she sat on the floor and helped. On the flip side, I knew better than to call her at work if I forgot a school assignment at home; those consequences were mine to handle.
I will always wonder if I’ve done enough as a parent
The truth is, I don’t think I’ll ever stop second-guessing myself as a parent. I’ll always wonder if I should have done more or less, if I should have stepped in earlier or held back longer. Or is my perspective too insular in proportion to the external happenings in the world?
What I’m trying to hold onto is that raising a perfect kid in an imperfect world surely can’t be the goal.
My parents’ style was both hands-on and hands-off. Now that I’m a parent, I understand the seemingly infinite number of factors that influence parenting choices. I have a hunch my parents didn’t have a precise formula for when to use which approach. What I am certain about is that my parents did their best with each decision.
That’s what we’re all doing, right? Our best at any given moment. That’s what I can commit to: showing up every day, doing my best in each particular moment, warts and all. I hope that’s enough.
