In a lighthearted exchange at home, my husband, Mike, shared an amusing story about his colleague, Greg, a radiologist with a daughter around the same age as our seventh grader, Lila. “You won’t believe what Greg mentioned today,” Mike chuckled, as he settled into his chair.
“What’s up?” I inquired, preparing dinner.
“Greg came into the office looking completely worn out. He sighed and said, ‘Is your household in total chaos over One Direction’s breakup?’”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “What did you say?”
“I told him, ‘Lila couldn’t care less about One Direction. Now, if it had been something like Benedict Cumberbatch quitting Sherlock or if they canceled Dr. Who, that would send her into a frenzy. But One Direction? Not at all.’”
“I’m thankful for the Nerd Genes she inherited from us,” I replied, tossing in some salad greens. “She did mention that some girls at school were totally distraught about it, though. Crying, even!”
“Exactly,” Mike nodded. “Greg said it’s emotional chaos—constant drama, texts, and whining over a band.”
“Zayn,” I grimaced. “Seriously, who names their kid that?”
Later that evening, I received a message from my friend, Lisa, whose daughter, Emma, is also in her teenage years. “Emma is facing some bullying from her friends because she isn’t into One Direction anymore,” she wrote. “The other girls are devastated over Zayn leaving, and when Emma said it wasn’t a big deal, they turned against her instantly.”
“That’s awful,” I replied. “How’s Emma handling it?”
“She’s hurt but talking to me, which I appreciate. I told her it’s ridiculous and to ignore them, but the girls even blurred her face from their group photos on Instagram.”
Reading that message sent chills down my spine. It reminded me of my own experience in middle school when I was ostracized by a group of friends. The suddenness and cruelty of their actions left a lasting impact on me.
Fast forward to this weekend; Mike and I took Lila and her friend to the mall. While I slipped away to buy Easter gifts, Mike turned to Lila and asked, “Do you want to share what you said earlier?”
Rolling her eyes, she replied, “Ugh, Dad!”
Mike laughed. “You should have seen her reaction in Sephora. She was horrified, asking why we were there since it’s just makeup!”
I turned to Lila, now curiously engaged. “What’s wrong with makeup?”
“Mom, gross popular girls wear makeup! All they care about is boys, and they’re awful. I’d never wear that stuff!”
As the day warmed, Lila headed to the backyard to swing, headphones on, as I watched her from the kitchen window. Mike joined me, smiling at our daughter.
“She’s really enjoying herself,” he said.
“Yeah,” I replied. “But I worry for her sometimes. This age can be brutal, and I don’t think she’s ready for that kind of cruelty.”
“Aren’t you glad she’s not boy-crazy or dressing inappropriately?”
“Absolutely. I’m grateful she’s not rushing to grow up. Still, it’s the other kids I worry about.”
“Kids can be tough, but she’s smart,” he assured me.
“She identifies as a nerd; it’s how she views herself.”
“Who cares? We were nerds, and we still are,” he chuckled.
“True, but does she believe that?”
He placed his hand on my back. “She’s fine. Enjoy her for who she is, quirks and all.”
And I did. Watching her swing higher brought a smile to my face, a reminder that she’s unique and wonderful just as she is.
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In summary, I’m grateful that my daughter embraces her nerdy side. It sets her apart from the chaos of teenage drama, fostering a sense of individuality and resilience. As a parent, I hope she continues to navigate her teenage years with confidence and authenticity.
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