Recently, I dropped off my teenagers at their father’s home a few minutes before he arrived. As I watched them walk through the door, I rummaged through my wallet to check for cash. My ex-husband had warned me earlier about an issue with the front door knob, saying, “It’s been tricky to unlock, so just make sure they get in okay before you leave. I’ll be home soon.”
As I drove away, my mind began to spiral. I replayed the scene in my head, reminding myself that they were safely inside. They’re fine. They’re not out there in the cold. But as I dug through my purse, doubt crept in. Did I really see them go inside?
An overwhelming wave of anxiety washed over me, and I could no longer ignore it. I pulled over to check my phone. The volume was on, and no messages had come through. I knew it was irrational, but I needed reassurance, so I called my daughter. “Did you get in?” I asked.
“Yes, Mom, didn’t you see us?” she replied, unfazed. She reminded me that there was no need for concern since she hadn’t called to inform me otherwise. “We are fine.”
The truth is, my kids understand my need to check in—they know my anxiety can undermine my confidence and lead me to second-guess everything. Yet, just because they’re accustomed to it doesn’t make it easier for me to cope with those nagging thoughts. Admitting that I struggle with this is even harder.
Even when I witness something firsthand, even after reminding them to be cautious, I sometimes feel the urge to double-check just for peace of mind. It’s not a daily occurrence, but it happens more often than I’d like to admit.
Talking about this struggle is tough. I feel a sense of shame. When they were younger, I’d constantly monitor their breathing during naps, thinking this compulsion would fade as they grew. It didn’t.
In their younger years, leaving them with sitters (which was rare) filled me with dread. I’d go over every detail with the caregiver and worry the entire time. It often felt easier to avoid leaving them altogether. While they were in school, I was consumed with worry. I’d even call the school office, feigning a wrong number, just to hear the familiar sounds of everyday life in the background. It provided a brief sense of relief, convincing me that all was well.
There are nights when I wake up in a panic, checking to ensure my son’s car is in the garage—even though I stay awake until he returns home. Sometimes, I have him text me when he reaches the gym, fully aware he dislikes it. I still find myself checking in on my children multiple times when they stay over at a friend’s house. They’re teenagers now, yet I still message them if I have to run errands and they are home alone.
This behavior has become second nature for them; they know how I operate. Anxiety demands answers. It doesn’t allow for patience. It pushes me to seek control and clarity, even if it means checking multiple times.
I don’t repeatedly check on my kids out of forgetfulness. I do it to quiet the doubts in my mind. I need to be sure because the alternative is a mental place I can’t bear to visit. It’s how I cope, how I function.
In the world of parenting, anxiety can feel like an unwanted companion, especially as we guide our independent teenagers. For more insights on navigating parenting challenges, check out this interesting blog post about home insemination. Additionally, if you’re looking for reliable information on pregnancy, Healthline offers excellent resources. And if you’re considering ways to boost fertility, you can visit this authority on the topic.
In summary, raising independent teenagers can trigger heightened anxiety, as parents grapple with the instinct to ensure their safety and well-being. This constant need for reassurance can stem from deep-seated worries that often feel overwhelming. Acknowledging these feelings and finding strategies to cope is essential in navigating the complexities of parenting.
Keyphrase: parenting independent teenagers
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