By Alana
My oldest is 11 now.
Smart, sharp, and growing up faster than I ever expected.
We talk about everything including, school, friendships, the latest shows she’s watching, even the little things she notices about the world that make her pause. I’ve always wanted that with her. That closeness. That safety.
She’s not afraid to come to me.
And I don’t make her feel like she should be.
But make no mistake; I’m still her mother.
We can laugh together, go shopping together, and have our weekends where we hit the nail salon and grab lunch like a pair of girlfriends. But the line is always there. Quiet, clear, and firm.
Because one thing I’ve learned?
You can be close, you can be connected, but children still need guidance, not a buddy.
I don’t tell her all my business.
I don’t bring her into grown folks’ conversations.
And when it’s time for a correction, I don’t hesitate.
She knows I love her. She knows I hear her.
But she also knows when I say something, I mean it.
That respect didn’t come from being cold.
It came from close but firm parenting. From building a mother-daughter relationship and being the one she can laugh with and lean on, but also the one who keeps her centered.
And I know as she gets older, things will shift.
She’ll have her own space. Her own thoughts.
But I pray the closeness never leaves, just grows with us.
Because yes, we’re tight.
But I’m not her best friend.
I’m her mother.
And maybe… maybe that’s the best kind of friend a girl could have. Or what do you think?