I Didn't Expect My Teen Daughter's Friendship Drama to Impact My Own

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a day ago

I was warned. My daughter was warned. My daughter warned me. Freshman year of high school can feel like a social atomic bomb. Large friend groups, historical friend groups who had evolved from sharing swing sets to sharing Lululemon sets, would all splinter. OK, fine. I'd had my fair share of hosting sleepovers and 'getting ready' parties for middle school dances. But I was neither prepared nor equipped to compartmentalize her breakups from the friendships I shared with those girls' parents. And boy, was it a kick in the butt.
Girls can be mean. While none of us needed to watch the movie Mean Girls, most of us did. It was a glorious affirmation that high school hierarchy is as real as it is vicious. But one character (sadly for us middle-aged fans) is underdeveloped: Regina's mom, played by the brilliant Amy Poehler. She was desperate to be the cool mom by being her daughter's friend, and a friend to her daughter's friends. But what about HER friends? Did she hang out with Cady's and Karen's and Gretchen's moms?
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I did, in fact, hang out with and talk to the moms of my daughter's friends on a regular basis. I genuinely enjoyed their company, and the sweet, innocent bond the girls formed through school, sports, and summers at the beach.
As if on cue, stuff got rocky at the start of 9th grade. If you're a parent, I don't need to explain to you the gut-wrenching emotions and psychological roller coaster that ensues when your child is hurt and confused and angry (and probably, on some level, participating in the drama; no child is perfect).
What I did not expect was for this turmoil to directly impact how I felt about these girls' parents. I was mad. Friend-group splinters are normal and a teen rite of passage. Our children must learn to navigate these challenges. But at some point, when it becomes so overwhelming for their growing teen brains, I felt as friends we could talk about how to help them. Not how to solve it for them; how to help them. I was wrong.
I was close (I thought closer) with one of the moms in this group of 14 or so. But as the lunch table divisions, Snapchat ghosting, and bickering raged on, she pretty much disappeared. There was one phone call to discuss an incident in which my daughter was accused of being wrong, but after that, nothing. About a month into this mess, I sent a passive text to the effect of, 'I know these girls will find their way back to each other. If there's anything we can do to help, let me know.'
The response was a thumbs-up emoji. Really? Wasn't she feeling the same sadness I was? Wasn't she concerned about how her daughter was acting? About how both girls were feeling? Had we ever really been friends, or was it a relationship by proxy? Granted, she had been through this before with her other daughters, so perhaps it affected her less. Or maybe she was just tired by her third go-round. But I was a novice. Could you throw me a lifeline? Give me some advice? Nothing. I was ghosted, too.
Everything felt out of control. I became resentful, and interactions became awkward as the behavior between the girls intensified, and it became apparent that the toxicity of this splinter had permanently poisoned the friendships. Theirs and ours.
I made my displeasure with the situation obvious, posting memes or advice for the situation on social media, hoping maybe someone would comment, 'Hey you! I get it!'
I was not an adult about it. I did not, in fact, follow the ground rules I set for my daughter: 'Head high. Don't let them have power over you. Stop trying to figure out the 'why.' Stay respectful. Confront any issues head-on.' I was too emotional and had an unhealthy investment in a fantasy that these girls would be friends forever. A fantasy that they would be an anomaly, rising above the drama that 'everyone else' experienced. A fantasy that their feelings would be spared — and so would mine. But that would mean my daughter, and all those girls, would not grow. And you must suffer growing pains in order to complete emotional growth.
The social tsunami that was freshman year whittled down to some annoying storms, then to some rough currents, and eventually it all felt very far away and very insignificant. I was the one who was left with baggage I packed all for myself. I'd like to think I helped guide my kid through it, which doesn't make me special; it just makes me a mom. But maybe, just maybe, if I had the help of moms who had gone through this, I would have been able to navigate these challenges with more patience, empathy, and maturity.
Another part of me is unsure of that, though. She is, after all, my child. My entire world. Maybe as mothers we are strong enough to handle the storms that circle us and forgive bad behavior when directed at us, but when your kid is absorbing the daggers it's like the good decision-making parts of our brain suffer from atrophy.
Eventually, I mustered up the courage to have a conversation with one of the moms and apologized for the way I handled it all. She graciously understood and said she could relate to some of the wretched feelings towards teenage girls and their parents.
I do miss these friendships, because I enjoyed the conversations about our daughters. But friendships need to have pillars that are made of more than just having kids who are BFFs. Maybe this one person never felt that our friendship was any deeper, and she was relieved when it was apparent that the common threads had been severed.
I had been warned. Girls' friend groups change. But as I learned, in the end they all grow from the turmoil — and their moms do, too.
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