My husband and I continue to debate one issue (well, besides every issue because obviously opposites attract). I'm not talking about Tomato Tomahto. I'm talking about how much to disclose.
To our teenagers.
About my wild child former self. You know, the drugs, sex, booze, and rock and roll years.
The issue has come up many times, usually as a joking, "Don't you ever tell the kids about what you used to get up to?"
More recently, the statement was made more emphatic when we found a knapsack with some, umm, paraphernalia in the basement. Much more shocking than finding tall boys (of the beer variety) in the girls' bedroom, but to me, nothing to freak out about.
Before you stare with incredulity at me, I'll give you the back story.
My husband didn't have any wild child years. He had one night. One wild and crazy night where his brother-in-law got him drunk and then he passed out on the front lawn and his father turned the sprinklers on him.
Yes, just like in the movies. That's how my father-in-law rolls. Dramatic all the way.
I, however, enjoyed a winning streak of fun from about 15 until I was ready to cool it at 23. Now, let me clarify, my early wild child years had nothing on those of some of my peers. I was never thrown out of the house, I was a late bloomer when it came to sex, and I graduated from high school as an Ontario Scholar and offers from all of the university programs of my choice.
When I got to university, all hell broke loose. I came from a fairly strict upper-middle class home where I had a midnight curfew until I was 18, and a young man's foot wasn't to touch the bottom step of the staircase that led to my booo-doir.
Any fun to be had was on the down low. And as far as they were concerned, my pristine behaviour was to fall somewhere between Mother Theresa and a Rabbi. As far as I was concerned, what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. As long as I kept my grades up, arrived home before the witching hour, and snuck the boys into the basement, all was fine. There were no cell phones. They had no idea what I was doing.
I left my parents' constricting rules behind when I boarded that jet plane to Vancouver and became much more publicly and intimately involved with partying, beer, and boys.
I won't go into specifics to protect my mystique. But it goes without saying that throughout high school and into my early 20s, I would have been very happy to move to Colorado and/or Washington State (and not because Christian Grey lives there). I could drink any athlete under the table and well, my Dad embarrassingly detailed my exploits with the opposite sex in his speech at my wedding so I don't need to go there.
When I met my future husband, I was rocking out at Psychedelic Mondays at RPM. The next weekend at a cottage party, he swore I wasn't the girl for him when I toddled up, cigarette in hand, swigging from a 2L bottle of homemade killer Kool-Aid. (He obviously got over his reticence because I moved in three months later.)
In other words, he knew who I was, and what I was like, when he married me. He knew that I could dance all night and sleep all day. He'd heard the stories of how I'd drink another table's pitcher of beer by stringing straws together and then how I'd get a football player to carry me all the way home to my dorm when I was too "tired" to walk. He was aware that I knew the various uses for an empty Coke can. He was fully cognizant that I spent my 22nd birthday dancing on a bar in Greece.
And I knew that he was nothing at all like me. Which was probably a good thing. To be fair, I did settle down for him. A lot. I guess I got it out of my system. (I thank him every day for insisting I quit smoking, that's for sure.)
So, back to the question of disclosure and whether or not my kids need to know what I was like.
He says that if I tell them they'll think it's ok to do the same.
I say what's wrong with that? I survived.
He says that times are different and they can get into more trouble.
I say they're good kids like I was and they know their limits. And if they don't, I need to know so I can advise them.
He says it's just wrong. Just plain wrong.
I say they're going to do it anyways, and shouldn't they be able to tell us the truth?
He says some of my parenting philosophies are questionable.
I say that he's probably right. But that they're working so far. And that I refuse to be a hypocrite.
This partnership parenting is pretty tough.
What do you say? Do I tell? Or do I pretend it never happened?
* This post was originally published on momfaze.com
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That doesn't mean one has to "share" everything, unbidden and without restraint, but it does mean, IMHO, that when asked for an honest answer, one gives it.
The idea that being honest about one's past, with regards to what some might see as questionable or "bad" choices, is a bad thing, a mistake, simply means one has to lie or prevaricate to one's own children. Is this the sort of lie that "protects" a child?
Earning a child's respect, and the trust that comes with that respect, takes more than hiding one's past, or disowning one's beliefs; it requires honesty. If you want your child to not, for example, smoke pot, then you have to tell them why they shouldn't; personal experience is going to be a more convincing buttress for such an argument, rather than simply repeating some "Just say no" platitudes - which no teenager is going to accept anyway.
In the final analysis, if one isn't themselves when in parent-mode, then what are they as a parent, really?
Allowing your children to see that one is a Human Being, as fallible as Humans are, isn't a bad thing, IMHO.
I was given all I needed to grow up successful by my parents, and I was secure in their love. I knew I could tell them anything and they would love and be there for me no matter what. I've done the same for my kids - along with ensuring they have the knowledge to protect themselves and make smart decisions. Now we stand back and allow them to grow -and yes make mistakes. So far they are doing a good job, despite not knowing their parent's wild history.
IMO, Whatever our age, we deserve privacy - for our present and past. I don't need to know everything they do ( I doubt my nerves could stand it) and they don't need to know everything (or anything) that I've done. It's none of their business. Although I must admit to being amused at the way my kids rejected the idea that I was quite the party girl, and they knew their dad was just pulling their leg when he told them that. When I'm old and pen my memoires they will be surprised, but until then it's my secret - and
Why must every generation repeat the same failings? Why must they miss out on the good times?
A family should be able to share.
Telling your child some of the stories of your youth helps to break down the misconception and can and will help in opening up lines of communication.
It is also through these information sessions where the concept of regrets can be approached. I have discussions with my nephew all the time about this, the fact that part of my job is to help reduce the regrets he will have when he grows up. I think most of us look back at some of the things we did and realize how stupid we were. Speaking in this frame of mind, I think, helps to take these quality conversations from being seen as nagging/pestering to be seen more about preventive information.
Parents need to stop acting like they are flawless and show, within reason, they they are flawed. People that are perceived to be perfect are hard to approach, people that seemed flawed are much more comforting in my opinion.
If you are too stringent and unapproachable, they will forge ahead without any idea of how cope with booze/pot/sex when the opportunities arise.
My dad was a big partier as a young adult and shared stories from his good 'ole days. The thing is, your escapades 20 years ago aren't comparable to your kids' lives. Kids want to respect their parents for being adults, not for being grown-up kids. You realize as you get older that that's what we all are, but to kids there's a certain mystique around being an adult.
Do you feel that unless you disclose this stuff they won't see you as open enough to come to with questions? Why not? If you already have an open relationship, why go out of your way to 'tell' them?
My mother never had bar dancing or partying days and yet I've always had a completely open dialogue with her - even broaching topics that other people would find inappropriate to tell ones' mother. I never wanted to know about my dad's partying, but he decided one day that he'd 'tell' me. When you're a kid what your parents did 20 years ago seems like 100 years (because the kids haven't even lived 20 years). It's rarely relatable to teens until they get a better sense of time.
Then again, every kid is different and you know yours best. I hope that you and your hubby come to a consensus. Cheers!
Just tell them to keep up their grades and not do anything that has ongoing consequences (like getting pregnant or arrested). Aside from that, encourage them to be upstanding citizens and treat them respectfully. You don't have to bring yourself to their level, you aren't their friend, you're their leader and guide. If they come to you crying asking if you can relate to a situation they're in, and if you can, decide then what to share; however, what is the point of deciding whether or not to wholly disclose your past - is this info for their benefit? Be warned, they may use your past indescretions to justify theirs, and throw back your antics in your face if they need to - that's a negative view, but I definitely did that to my wild-child parent when I was a teen. You provide easy fodder for your kids to write off your opinion because you were even crazier than them, and you turned out fine. Why undermine yourself?
Plus, you can always tell them when they adults and have a good laugh about their teenage years and yours.
Good luck!
thanks for reading. Come back again.
The article is entitled "Should You Tell Your Teen You Were a Wild Child?"; therefore, I used the word 'tell' as that's how the article was framed. If the article was about discussing based on what the teen was bringing up in their own lives, then it potentially makes sense to discuss, but the article frames the entire dialogue as a tell-all instead of a learning lesson.
When asking the question 'should I tell my kids' [something], my response was 'is this to the benefit of the child?' because it didn't seem from the article like the kids were asking, that's all.