We’ve had a difficult day. Sixteen is a hard age for kids. It’s no picnic for the parents, either.
You've stumbled across my official website and landed on the front page of my weblog.
My name is Rosina Lippi. I'm a former academic and tenured university professor, writing full time since 2000. Under the pen name Sara Donati I am the author of the Wilderness series, six historical novels that follow the fortunes of a group of families living in upstate New York from about 1792-1825. A new series based on later generations of the same families was launched September 1, 2015 with The Gilded Hour. The next volume in the new series, Where the Light Enters, was released in 2019.
Please see the pinned post for an overview of what you'll find on this weblog, and what has been moved to the wiki (including the FAQ page).
If you are in difficulties with a book, try the element of surprise: attack it at an hour when it isn’t expecting it.
— H.G. Wells (attributed), Sir Osbert Sitwell
See the whole Wise Guys collection here.
If I had a list of the Top Ten Stupid Things I Ever Did In My Life (And I Mean Really Stupid), probably eight of the items would be from the year when I was sixteen. This made for some really tough moments for my parents. However, that year was a major turning point for me, and from 17 on, things were much better for us in many ways. Now I’m a happy, healthy, relatively well-adjusted adult, and I’d choose my parents as friends even if we weren’t related.
With a mother like you I don’t see how things could turn out in any way but wonderful for your lovely daughter.
Ditto what Rachel said.
Thank you. That really is very comforting, and I needed it just now.
…sixteen really wasnt that hard for me. maybe i’m abnormal, but i never really went through the “i-hate-your-guts-etc” phase. although, 18 is shaping up to be pretty hard on me…
I think sixteen was harder on me than my parents. I pretty much toed the line, even though there were many times I wanted to cross it. But I was too scared of my mother. She was not afraid to swing a belt, and I didn’t like being in trouble. However, if the only thing I’d had to worry about was being grounded (like most of my friends) instead of beaten, I would have pushed it a little more. Consequently, I saved all of my stupid stuff for my twenties. I don’t know. Is that better or worse?
I was a horrible teenager. At sixteen I vowed that I would never talk to my parents ever again. They were ruining my life by giving me guidelines, the bastards! Now in my 20’s I miss my mother and I adore my father and think back on the things they didn’t let me do and the lessons they taught me with gratitude. The tantrums and the tirade of evil teenage dialog hurts and is hard to deal with, but just remember that it is the hormones talking. When she comes out the other side she will love you even more for going through it with her and never giving up on her. I wish I could thank my mum for her pathience.
I’m 25 right now and can still remember 16 very well. I remember it being very difficult, wouldnt want to do it again. I have 2 soon to be 3 daughters…hopefully i can still remember what 16 was like when they get there! Would be helpful I would guess.
16 was one of the worst years of my life. My own teenagerness and my parents hideous marriage. Thankfully we all just get older.
Dear Sara, I fought with my mother all through my teens as I tried to understand myself and carve out my own personality while trying to rebel against hers (which was perfectly admirable). In the end we are close now and understand each other well because we were always genuine in our reactions to each and aired every issue as it came up (albeit loudly). I am sure that your daughter’s disagreements or reactions to you are a reflection of how safe she feels with you and how high her expectations of your relationship with you are, due to the love you have shown her. I hope you pardon my presumption, but I think that your patience now will result in a rock-solid, honest friendship when she settles into herself as an adult.
I went through the I-can’t-stand-my-mother phase pretty early–probably 13 or 14. I would get frustrated and complain about her a lot, usually to my best friend (who, yes, wasn’t the best influence on me). One day the best friend went too far in agreeing with me about how awful my mother was. Made me so mad that I left her and started walking the several miles home (fortunately, a neighbor happened to drive by and picked me up). I became much more pleasant toward my mom after that. We’re great friends now.