Being a teenager in any generation isn't easy. It's full of hormonal changes, front cortex development, indecision, anxiety, anger, depression, streaming opinions, self-awareness, emotional swings and sass, introversion and extroversion, and yes, radiating moments of pure joy. Like the Inside Out movies on steroids.
All these changes and experiences are coming at them constantly and they're woven together like a patchwork quilt they wrap around themselves and wear with pride. With disdain. With uncertainty.
Our youngest Bryce wore their quilt with disdain. They had felt disconnected from people, including us, and extremely introverted and anxious. But we never stopped caring for Bryce, loving them, ensuring we invested in whatever support they needed, encouraging them to develop their passion through music -- singing in the school choir and learning to play guitar.
Bryce never wanted to sing a solo. Like ever. Their choir teacher encouraged them the past two years, but it was always a no-go. Bryce never wanted to even sing in front of us or play their guitar for us (except for when one of us takes them to their guitar lessons).
But then something changed. Bryce's patchwork quilt brightened in the sunlight over the past year with their belief that they could do it (and more). And not just their belief either -- the actual doing of the things with a celebratory heart. Every year Bryce's choir runs a talent show where the kids are encouraged to sing their favorite songs with solos, duets, quartets, or other combos.
Bryce just didn't take on one solo -- they took on four solos total -- radiating with moments of pure joy.
Our oldest Beatrice had also worn her quilt with cocooned anxiety. Always second-guessing her decisions and her learning ability, she's struggled with feeling confident in her activities and experiences, especially about her classes. It always taken her a little longer than her peers to process what she's learning.
But she's learned to adapt and how to approach learning that works for her and has thrived in school. It's not without a lot of ongoing work, and we've never stopped helping her whenever we can, getting the support she needs when she's needed it.
Now, she's taking honors classes and will take some AP classes, planning for college and career, stretching herself constantly to learn, adapt, and thrive. She's in theater -- acting, singing, and dancing. She's joining choir next year (and her sister will be in high school choir, too).
Those incremental, maturity moments of our teens emotional and psychological growth aren't without setbacks and a need to reset; that's just how it works growing up (and growing old). But the key for any of us is how we respond to these setbacks, and what then we do in the shadows of uncertainty and despair. For us as parents to watch them both learn, adapt, and thrive more and more on their own has again been awe-inspiring.
In fact, for me, they've become the meddling mentors, hungry to understand what's made us tick since we were their age, what makes us tick today, and what makes them tick today (and what's coming tomorrow). They're not afraid of asking the hard questions, not afraid of pressing for answers, not afraid of who they are and who they're becoming, while constantly reminding us of why we became parents in the first place. Of why we are who we are today. Of why we want a better world for them and all of us, and the fact they want the same.
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