In high school, and into what I (now jokingly) call my “false-freshman year” of college I dated a boy. A boy that I now look back in time and thing “What on earth was I thinking?” The dissection of that relationship is a blog post for another time and place, but needless to say, it wasn’t a great relationship to be in.
What aids me in that whole 20/20-hindsight thing is the new (to me) knowledge that my parents and friends couldn’t stand him. They hated him. Hated me dating him, hated him.
At one point I looked at my mother and said “WHY didn’t you tell me?” I got the counter answer that if she’d told me, it might have made me date him longer.
Not true, but still, I see where she’s coming from.
Especially now.
With my teenager dating.
With my son having a girlfriend.
He’s fifteen now. We’ve already lived through the heartbreaking loss of his ‘first love’. A string of very short-lived relationships, and now the one he’s in. It’s lasted some time now.
The husband and I, we have opinions.
We discuss his dating status, and his girlfriend.
But, much like other details and relationships in our life, we say nothing directly good or bad about her to his face.
We will listen when he actually talks to us.
We will try to give him un-biased advice to the best of our ability.
We will let him learn his own lessons.
Be they good or bad.
Because that is how you grow up.
Even if our heart aches every time his does.
Even if our joy at his is great.
Even if we worry.
Every day.
If we’re doing it right.
that’s a good, and probably hard, path to walk, not giving opinions. I’m not sure how I’ll handle it… I just hope my daughters don’t date giant assholes, because then I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.