2025-03-07T01:21:02Z Read in app The author realized that now that her daughter is a teen, she's not the one who knows her the best. Courtesy of the author This story is available exclusively to Business Insider subscribers. Become an Insider and start reading now.Have an account? Parenting my teen wasn't hard until I realized I wasn't ready to let her go.I got weirdly clingy and was afraid I'd push her away.Refocusing on myself helped me look forward to the future and a new version of our relationship.When my daughter was an adorably cheeky toddler, it seemed every older person I encountered told me, "Wait 'til she's a teen!" before sharing some teenager-related horror story. I hated all the negativity and refused to believe that a difficult parent-teen connection was inevitable. I worked hard to maintain a healthy relationship, and at 17, my daughter rarely rolls her eyes at me. She still likes to hang out, has a kind boyfriend and an amazing group of friends, and is rocking high school.I wasn't prepared for the realization that hit me as I waved goodnight to her boyfriend a couple of months ago; I no longer know her best. Instead of sharing her secrets with me, she shares them with him or her besties in the group chat. While she's living her best life, I am coming to terms with the fact that this amazing human is spreading her wings, and my job is to stand back, watch her soar, and be a steady, soft place if she needs to crash land.I was surprised by my reaction to her growing independenceHaving a graduate degree in psychology, I understood this was a normal, healthy part of adolescent individuation, the process that allows teens to fully develop their sense of self and become functioning adults. But nothing prepared me for the messiness of my own emotions. I was horrified to find myself peppering her with questions, barging in on her conversations, and feeling hurt when her dad knew something I didn't. My sadness had me holding on tighter when I was supposed to be letting go."The feeling of grief is sometimes surprising to people because they don't see it as grief," explained my neighbor Carla Corral, a licensed clinical psychologist whose oldest daughter is a sophomore in college. "We're not losing somebody, right, to death or illness or the abrupt end of a relationship, but it's grief."I didn't like the way my grief had me inserting myself into my daughter's life. I felt needy, clingy, and decidedly not cool. I didn't want to push her away or make her feel she needed to care for my feelings. It was time to get hold of myself.I had to change my behavior or risk pushing her awayI thought back to how exciting life was when I was her age and how eager and capable I felt. Shifting away from my current point of view as a concerned mom helped me see how smart, responsible, and prepared my daughter is. I also turned my attention back on myself and my dreams for the future. I grew up dancing, so I joined a tap class. It's great exercise and so much fun. Instead of gifts for Christmas, I gave my friends a breakfast or lunch date to prioritize connecting one-on-one.I started journaling again to dump my worries on the page instead of on my daughter. This helped me see some of my concerns as ridiculous and others as important points to discuss before she leaves. I keep reminding myself my job as a parent is shifting, but it's not over. Making my life more about me again allowed those clingy behaviors to fade away, and when they occasionally pop up, I take a deep breath and focus on something I enjoy.While I soak up the time I have with her including family movie nights, a spring break trip to visit her top choice university, and long conversations while walking the dog I'm building a list of things I want to do after she starts college, like visiting friends, volunteering for a local land trust and joining my husband for some of his work travel. I remind myself I've loved every stage of being a mom, even with the challenges, and I trust I will enjoy parenting a young adult. The part of my job that involved driving her around and making sure her homework was turned in may be done, but I know there are wonderful times ahead for both of us, together and apart.