Sometimes the best things hurt the worst. They can be torturous while they pan out, but in the end it's for the best. It doesn't always seem like it, especially when you are in the middle of tough love with a teenager. I'm not going to fool myself and proclaim that our tough times are completely behind us BUT this one appears to be a win for the mom.
It had been a few weeks since our last interaction when I got a text from the teen, "can I sleep on my bed in the garage?" that's heartbreaking. But I stuck to my guns and replied "no, but if you're willing to follow some simple rules you're always welcome in our house". Expecting no answer or worse vitriolic spew I went on with my night. A later text read "what are the rules?". I laid them down. No drinking, no legal or illegal drugs so on and so forth. And the deal was struck. Two days later our oldest son was home, warm, safe, employed, graduated and loved. My heart could stop breaking and my brain could stop second guessing.
No one ever said I'd have to turn my back on my son, they just don't tell you that. No one ever said I would worry every night, wondering if he was warm. These are things you get to discover on your own journey, with your own kids. They don't tell you because everyone is different, no two stories are the same. Or maybe they don't tell you because they think we might stop procreating. Sweet genius it is more painful than pushing out a bowling ball, at least there you have finite goal, get this thing out of me.
Peace and Love--