Of course it's personal.
Somewhere along the way, parents got handed a piece of advice: "Don't take it personally." And I'd love to take that off your plate, because I've watched what it does. A mom grits her teeth through the slammed door, keeps her voice flat, performs a calm she does not feel . . . and white-knuckles her way to bedtime. Forced calm is just white-knuckling with a nicer face.
Here's my version. Of course it's personal. This is someone you love as much as anything on earth. When they say "I hate you," when they roll their eyes at the dinner you made . . . of course it hurts. You're a human in a real relationship with your child. The hurt is proof the relationship is real.
So take it personally. Just don't take it too seriously . . . unless safety is involved. Safety, we always take seriously.
Because your child's emotions in these years roll in and out like waves. The fury at 7:40 is gone by 9. The "I hate this family" on Tuesday is "can we get boba?" by Thursday. The wave is real while it's breaking . . . and it's still a wave. You don't build your house on a wave.
And in the closest relationships, the heat gets turned up on the inside. That's not a malfunction. It makes sense that you feel the fire . . . the fire means you're standing close to someone who matters. You just don't have to act from it.
The goal was never to feel nothing. The goal is to feel it, know what it is, and still get to choose what you do next.
This is the kind of thing we work through inside So Glad It's You . . . the online home for parents of middle schoolers.
Choose your plan