as i've reflected on whitney houston's death in the last couple days, i realize just how much of the soundtrack of my youth features her unique and powerful voice. although her albums haven't been a part of my collection since the early 90s, her music and her presence have left a significant imprint on me.
this morning, i had the urge to piece together the parts of the whitney houston story that i didn't know. and as i surfed around, reading a bit here and listening to a little there, the one strand that grabbed me was her relationship with her teenage daughter. i read about it as an "unconventional mother/daughter relationship," and i was touched by the immense hardship on this girl that lost not only her mother, but also her friend.
then, still spinning these thoughts, i was in the salon today and got drawn into one of those celebrity gossip mags. i ended up engulfed in a story of demi moore and her daughter, a very similar story of a strong mother/daughter friendship, and of a troubled mother and a troubled daughter.
i truly understand the desire of each of these women to befriend the girl they raised. i too have felt that pull of wanting my child to see the real me, the flawed me, the youthful me, the fun me. i envy the friendships these women created with their daughters, and i can only imagine how good a relationship like that can feel.
and when reading the stories about these women and their daughters, i was struck with how both stories said there weren't limits or boundaries imposed by mother onto daughter. that was the flashing text in each article that kept catching my eye, playing in my head: "no limits or boundaries." and in that, i really saw my own reflection in these sad stories.
as my daughter is entering the phase of preteen rebellion, i see my own desire to just say, "fine, do what you want!" does it really matter if she doesn't finish her broccoli? do i really care if she stays up for an hour after her bedtime? is it really that big a deal that she never practices her violin, even though it's the only homework she gets?
a couple weeks ago, my husband had a class on a friday night, so my daughter and i decided to go out to dinner on our own before heading home. we went to my favorite pizza place, one that brews its own fantastic beer, and as we sat on the high stools, me sipping my beer, and her chatting about the latest dramas at school, it was one of my greatest moments.
i was overwhelmed by the sense of unity with this person that i've watched grow up, feeling a sense of friendship opening in a space that had been filled with late night feedings, diaper changes, and ABCs not so long ago.
and i could so easily be hooked. i'd love to just drop all the fights about rules and limits, and go out to that pizza place with her every friday night. and i see that maybe it could progress . . . a night off in the future when i get two beers with the pizza and feel fine to drive . . . and then maybe a few more years, i give in when she asks to split my beer even though she's underage . . . until the point when i no longer see the fragility in her youth; i only see a friend.
and this is where i feel grateful for this little episode in my mind starring whitney houston and demi moore. i feel like the stories i read, whether true or not, play out how the mother/daughter fantasy can go. although i've had no intention to move further down that line of adult friendship, i see its lure. i realize the pull of wanting that kind of intimacy with someone you love so much, with someone that you can literally see yourself in.
as much as i want to indulge in the friendship, nurture the intimacy, be the one she can tell anything, i feel like i'm seeing for the first time that stepping out of that parental role too soon leaves my daughter without a mother. it leaves her without a responsible adult behind the wheel, without a guardian watching over her, without someone to show her where the lines are between safe and dangerous. setting limits may make her see me as completely the opposite of her beloved friends, but i feel like the message these celebrity stories had for me was that i still have to do it.
as much as that night out to dinner with my girl was such a highlight, i see now: that aspect of our relationship has to wait. not that we can't have moments when we get to drop the roles and just be together, not that there won't be feelings of friendship, but just that what she most needs from me isn't a friend. that's what i often want the most, but she has plenty of friends.
what she needs, and will continue to need for many years into the future, is a mom. one that says no sometimes, one that makes rules and limits, one that she can curse about to her friends, and one that will ruin her life and make her feel like she'll die of embarrassment.
and hopefully, one that she'll thank at 30, when she realizes that i expressed my greatest love for her in choosing to be that mom instead of getting to be her friend for all those years.
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