The questionable years

Dear parent whose kid is making you question every decision made since their birth,

Your child is going through phases that look nothing like the person you know them to be.

And that doesn’t mean they’re lost. It means they’re becoming.

Tweens & teens try on behaviors the way toddlers try on costumes — wholeheartedly, dramatically, and with absolutely zero regard for your sanity.

One month it’s music that sounds like a trash can rolling down a hill.
Then it’s an attitude sharp enough to slice bread.
Then it’s ignoring you like you’re a houseplant (except actually wanting water 24/7.)
Then it’s mimicking the one friend whose value system lives somewhere between fun chaos and “maybe I should block this number.”

And your nervous system goes:

“Oh God. Is this who they are now?”

No. It’s who they’re trying on.

Identity is a fitting room at this age — not a contract.

Don’t rush to fix it.
Don’t assume this phase is permanent.
And for the love of all things holy, don’t turn this into a moral crisis.

Kids experiment.
They imitate.
They exaggerate.
They test boundaries.
They toggle between versions of themselves as if scrolling through filters.
It’s development, not doom.

And I know — it’s agonizing to watch.

You see them acting out of alignment and your brain instantly starts narrating a dramatic three-season arc where your sweet child becomes a delinquent who looses themself to the dark side…

This is not a personality.
This is a process.

And the process is supposed to look messy.

They’re exploring:

• who they are

• who they’re not

• what gets a reaction

• what gets ignored

• what feels powerful

• what feels wrong

• what feels like belonging

• what feels like rebellion

• what feels like independence

• what feels like chaos

It’s all data.

And your job?

To stay steady.
Not perfect.
Not detached.
Just steady.

Because when a kid tries on a new identity, what anchors them isn’t a parent who panics — it’s a parent who remembers who they really are, even when they temporarily forget.

You hold the blueprint. Not the moment.

And the foundation you’ve built matters more than the phase they’re in.

Your connection, your values, your consistency, your love, your boundaries — that’s the real scaffolding.

This phase?
That’s just wallpaper.
It may be ugly, and it may require a steamer to remove.
But it’s temporary.

So what do you do?

1. Stay curious.

Ask questions. Not interrogation questions — connection questions.

“Tell me about this song, what do you like about it?”
“What makes that friend fun for you?”
“Seems like you’re trying something new — how’s it feel?”

Curiosity keeps the bridge open.

2. Don’t insult the thing they’re trying on.

The moment you attack the behavior, the music, the vibe, the outfit, the friend — you’re not criticizing the phase. You’re criticizing the identity they’re exploring.

And they will cling to it harder.

3. Hold the boundary without the freak-out.

You can say no.
You can redirect.
You can protect.
You can guide.
Just don’t dramatize.
Boundaries need calm, not fire.

4. Remember the long game.

Identity formation is years of micro-detours, experiments, and collapses that eventually form something coherent.

Your job isn’t to make the path straight — it’s to make the path safe enough for them to wander.

5. Trust the foundation you’ve laid.

You have poured years into modeling empathy, teaching values, showing love, setting boundaries, having hard conversations.

That doesn’t evaporate because they discovered a new genre of music.

6. Don’t assume temporary chaos equals permanent character.

A moody week is not a prophecy.
A rude moment is not a personality.
A questionable friend is not a life trajectory.
Kids are allowed to wobble.
You are allowed to breathe.

⸻

When your child feels safe enough to try new versions of themselves around you,
you’re doing something right.

The kids who hide?
The kids who lie?
The kids who shrink?
The kids who never bring their process home?
Those are the ones to worry about.

But a kid who tries on an attitude, weird phrases, or questionable style choices in front of you?

That’s a kid who trusts you.
That’s a kid who believes they won’t be abandoned for evolving.
That’s a kid who feels the foundation even while shaking the walls.

So you?
You breathe.
You observe.
You guide.
You stay connected.
You trust.

Yes, this is a phase…

and

it’s not the whole story.

Now hold onto your butt,
LP