The Unexpected Time Capsule

Thirty-five years ago, a teenage girl poured her heart into writings, poems, and unfinished thoughts. She never could have imagined one day a 50-year-old version of herself would take the time to read those words again.

That teenage girl was me. When I opened the notebooks I expected to cringe. Instead, I found a part of me I thought was lost.

As I read page after page, I realized something surprising: my teenage self is helping me become a better mom to my teenage daughter. I’ve been here before, I have raised two teens into adulthood, but this time around feels different. It’s my last dance through these crazy teen years.

Somewhere between paying bills, raising children, managing careers, and carrying adult responsibilities, we forget. We forget what it felt like to desperately want to belong.

We question whether anyone really understood us.

We forget how it felt when a small disappointment seemed like the end of the world.

We believed what our friends thought mattered more than we’d ever admit.

Our teenagers aren’t irrational.

They’re experiencing many of the same emotions we once felt. They just live in a different world than we did.

As I read my journals and poems, I’m struck by how familiar the emotions still feel. The names and circumstances have changed, but the themes haven’t. Most of those friends I had at the time aren’t even in my life anymore. But, I longed to be accepted.

I was trying to figure out who I was.

I worried about saying the wrong thing.

I wanted independence while secretly needing reassurance.

Those aren’t problems unique to the 1990s or the 2020’s. They’re part of growing up.

When I see a familiar look of emotional overload on her face, I’ve started asking myself a different question. Instead of…

“Why is she acting this way?”

I ask…

“When did I feel this way?”

That simple shift changes everything. It replaces frustration with curiosity. It gives me a different starting point for the conversation.