I want to be formidable. I want to be strong and fearless and sure. I want to feel the courage of my convictions, and know with confidence that what I am doing is the right thing. But I have teenage children. So I am none of these things. I feel their pain so deeply, and take their dismissals so personally. I sense that I am floundering at every turn. When I want to sound wise, I am afraid I am a babbling idiot. Where I hope to show an example, I am often petty and small. Yesterday, I asked my daughter to “unfriend” someone who had slighted my son; I told my son to rise above the angsty drama. I am so full of it.
Can good intentions ever be enough?


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