I Am Not Emotionally Ready

… to parent a teenager.

Too bad Marissa will be 17 in a week and a half. Soon she will be an adult and I still won’t be ready for the teen years. Remember this poll?

Well, 40% of you don’t agree with me. Marissa wants to go to our town’s Christian Teen Club on Friday night. I have had a problem with the club since its inception. To begin with the club targets kids age 13-18. There are great Christian bands, pool tables, refreshments, a large screen TV. Heck, I would want to hang out there if I were a teenager again. But, I am not a teen and I have the gift of hindsight and imagining consequences. While the target audience is our town’s teens, fans of the performing artist are allowed to attend. This means that there may be audience members who are older (or younger) than the target audience. Let’s just forget the 10-year old girl who is there to watch her best friend’s second cousin perform. They do not concern me, at all. But, what about the 23-year old male who happens into the club; I do worry about him. Why in the world would a man that age want to hang out with a bunch of teen girls?

Second, Marissa has a family history of alcoholism. A descriptive research study on FASD reported found that 70% of the adult females experienced substance abuse problems. What are the risks of allowing Marissa to develop a habit of hanging out, listening to music, shooting pool or watching a game on the big screen? There is no such thing as a alcohol-free adult club where she would be able to continue this activity once she outgrew the teen scene. I suppose I should be glad that the club doesn’t offer any low-alcohol/near beer products. That would, of course, make it the perfect training ground for a real bar.

Last, I do not want to raise a permanent child, but Marissa still has FASD. She does best in a structured environment where social and sensory stimulation are well controlled. The teen club is not that kind of environment. When she attends Youth Group the leaders know she has FASD. I have met with them, given them pamphlets and prayed with them. They really are pretty good at acting as Marissa’s external brain when needed. It really wouldn’t be appropriate for me to do this with the bouncers/guards at the teen club. Marissa has gotten much, much better at advocating for herself and telling people what she needs. She was honest when she filled out her application and listed the things she struggles with. But, she is not going to say, “Hi. My name’s Marissa and I have FASD.” She mostly tries to pass as normal neurotypical. So, no one will be acting as an external brain. She’d be free-falling without a static line.

Marissa is almost 17. In a year, she will be able to leave my home, ready or not. I don’t want to create a home environment where she has to escape in order to have age appropriate freedoms — even if that means escaping to an abusive relationship or life on the street.

The other issue is that Marissa cannot drive. In fact no on in the group of kids she is going with drives. The band doesn’t even start until 9 PM. I bet that means they get done really, really late. I don’t really want to drive around town at midnight to pick her  up from an event I would rather she not attend. But, I am thinking about praying, saying yes, and then climbing on my knees and praying that she makes good choices.

Getting back to the hair thing…

It happened again. Someone asked Marissa why she doesn’t straighten her hair all the time, “It’s so pretty straight.” ARGH!!! Diversity training time!

Marissa’s hair is unique and pretty when it is curly. While it is okay to tell her she looks nice when she has obviously invested a lot of time with a flat iron, don’t let that be the only time she hears compliments. Marissa should not have to straighten her hair so that it looks more European in order to be acceptable and considered pretty. She is stunning as is!

Straightening hair is hard on the hair. When Marissa turned 13 (and after 3 years of constant begging), I allowed her to have her hair chemically straightened. Marissa left the shop with a chemical burn on her forehead that took over a month to heal. The next day at school she had anxiety and panic attacks because she felt she was the center of attention. She refused to go to class and was finally suspended. Despite the harsh chemicals that had been used to tame her curl, Marissa had to use a flat iron to get rid of the final trace of curl. If her hair got wet her hair got wavy again. So, she wouldn’t participate in swimming either. She got kicked out of PE and was placed in work study. Within weeks her once beautiful, healthy hair became dull and lifeless. She began to notice a lot of hair on her pillowcase and in the shower. Her hair was falling out. She still thought her hair looked great!

When we were in Phoenix helping my parents relocate to South Carolina, a random hair dresser handed Marissa her business card and told her she could help her fix her hair. When we were in South Carolina we went to a beautician with experience in ethnic hair. She told Marissa that she could cut her hair or it would fall out, but that she was losing her hair. Marissa agreed to have her hair cut. It took over 2-years to grow her hair back out. Her hair is healthy and would be shiny if she didn’t keep putting a dark brown, almost black, dye in it. She thinks it looks cool! I have decided temporary hair color goes in the not worth fighting over column. (You know as opposed to getting a tattoo or piercing her lip).

Thinking back to when I was her age, I remember I could hardly wait until I was old enough to be on my own and making my own rules. I never suspected that perhaps my parents were anticipating that day as much as I was. This parenting teens thing is tough. Sometimes 18 can’t possibly come soon enough. And, other times I wish I could grab time by the tail. How did my baby get to be so grown?