My teenage daughter’s sudden demand for privacy kept me on my toes, but nothing could have prepared me for what I discovered under her bed when I violated her trust and started snooping.
I’ve been raising my daughter Barbara alone since she was four years old. Her father abandoned us without a backward glance, and it’s been just the two of us against the world ever since.
Over the years we have built something solid, the kind of mother-daughter relationship full of trust, laughter and the occasional disagreement. However, our arguments have never been earth-shattering. Now, at 16, she is finding herself.
Recently, things have changed a bit, and I began to worry. Barbara has started dating a guy, Brad. I saw him a few times.
He was polite and well-mannered. The kind of guy who shakes your hand and says, ‘Yes, ma’am.’ Everything was supposed to go well. But once they got engaged, Barbara became more reserved.
She started locking the door a lot, and one night she told me she couldn’t clean her room anymore.
‘Mum, I’m 16 years old,’ she said. I would only go into her room to pick up the laundry basket while she was in the bathroom. But she was waiting for me at the door, arms crossed, when I came out. “I don’t want you to come in whenever you want anymore. It’s not that big of a deal. I just need some privacy.”
I raised an eyebrow. “But I was just picking up your laundry, honey. I wasn’t snooping.”
She sighed and smiled, stepping around me and practically pushing me out of her space. “Yeah, and I appreciate that, but I’m not a kid anymore. I’ll start doing my own laundry or take the laundry to the laundromat. You trust me, don’t you?”
“Oh…uh…sure! Of course,” I agreed. She made a small gesture with her hand and closed the door in my face.
This hit me hard as I walked to the laundry room. I should have been happy that she had gained her independence. But I felt like I was losing my little girl. I think all parents have that feeling at one time or another.
I still felt uneasy about this sudden change. Why? What’s the matter? Is it because of her new boyfriend? Is something going on?
When she told me about Brad, she and I had an adult conversation about relationships and other things. I thought I could trust her in that regard. But the feeling wouldn’t leave me.
A few nights later, as I walked past her room, I heard her talking on the phone. Her voice was deep, almost trembling.
‘Am I doing everything right?’ – she whispered.
What’s right?
I put my hand on the doorknob, but I knew it was locked. Then I started imagining all sorts of scenarios. Yes, the worst things that a teenager or any other person could do in secret came to mind.
But I walked away and tried to forget about it. The next day, I noticed that she started locking her room even when I wasn’t home. What was she hiding?
A week later, I dropped my daughter off at school and pretended to go to work. In fact, I took the day off. And when I got home, I couldn’t resist anymore.
I know how that sounds, and I’m not proud of it, but I should have known.
I used the spare key to unlock the door and went inside. Her room looked normal. Too normal, even.
The bed was made, the table tidied, even the laundry was in the hamper. I knew she’d take it to the laundry room in a few days, as promised.
Nevertheless, I began my search. I searched the desk drawers, the wardrobe and even looked under the dirty clothes.
But there was nothing. Not a single thing seemed out of place.
I was about to leave when I remembered that in the cinema incriminating things are hidden under the bed. So I crouched down, peering into the shadows. And then I saw a large package wrapped in a plastic bag.
My heart raced as I pulled it out. It weighed more than I had expected. My hands trembled as I unwrapped the bag, half expecting to see something horrible. But what I found… wasn’t horrible at all.
It was a partially knitted jumper. The seams were uneven, threads sticking out everywhere, but right in the centre in big clunky letters were the words:
‘World’s Greatest Mum’.
The bag also contained a large ball of wool and a few needles.
I was so surprised that I sat on the floor and stared at it. I was sure something crazy was going on.
But when the shock wore off, guilt appeared in my eyes. All this time, I had imagined my daughter in the worst possible light. My sweet, academically capable girl who had grown up to be so mature and loving, despite her father’s reckless abandonment. This person I knew as my best friend in the world.
I had invaded her privacy and violated her trust, all because I didn’t know how to handle a closed door. And here she was, secretly learning how to knit a present for me, because my birthday was in a couple of weeks.
I carefully wrapped up the jumper and materials, made sure it looked the same as before, and put it back under the bed. I then closed the door behind me and spent the rest of the day shrouded in a fog of shame and self-recrimination.
What kind of mother was I being?
For the next two weeks, I behaved as normally as possible. I tried not to repress myself, even though it was difficult. Every time I saw Barbara, I was overcome with guilt. Did she know I was in her room? Was she pretending that everything was okay? The weight of it all was almost unbearable.
Finally my birthday came. Barbara got up early and burst into the kitchen with her face shining with excitement. In her hands was the finished jumper. It was still a little chunky, the seams were split in places and tight in places, but it was perfect for me.
‘Happy birthday, Mum!’ – she said, holding it out like it was the greatest treasure in the world. It really was. I made it for you.”
I stared at her with a lump in my throat. I wanted to cry, laugh, and apologise all at the same time. ‘Did you do that?’ managed to say.
She nodded, glowing. “I learnt to knit from Brad’s sister. She taught me on FaceTime.” She paused and blushed slightly. “Honestly, Mum, that’s why I asked you not to barge into my room and started locking the door. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
And then I couldn’t hold back any longer. Tears came to my eyes and I pulled her to me to hug her, clasping the jersey between us. “Barbara, she’s beautiful. It’s the best gift I’ve ever received. But there’s something I have to tell you.”
She pulled away, and her smile faded. “You don’t like it? I know it’s a little rough, but I’ll improve it and get you a better one for Christmas.”
I shook my head and took a deep breath. “No, sweetheart. It’s not about that. I love him. It’s the best gift you could have given me. But I was so worried you wanted to be locked up that I went into your room a few weeks ago when you were at school.”
Her eyes widened. ‘What, why?’
“Because I heard you talking on the phone and you sounded really weird. I thought… I thought maybe something was wrong. But I found the jumper. I’m sorry, Barbara. I shouldn’t have peeked.
She stared at me, her expression unreadable. Then she sighed and smiled shyly. “Mum, I understand. You’re always worried about me. But you have to trust me, okay? I’m not hiding anything bad. I just wanted to do something special for you.”
‘I know,’ I said, swallowing hard, pulling the spare key out of my pocket and handing it to her. ‘That’s why I’m giving it to you. I won’t go into your room again without your permission. I promise.”
She hesitated, but took the key nonetheless. Thank you, Mum. But let’s keep it among the other keys. You know…for emergencies.”
I nodded and hugged her again. That afternoon we went for a walk together and had a great time. Of course, I wore my jumper!
Although I was always worried about her, I knew Barbara was becoming a wonderful person. I had to let her fly.
More than that, I had to trust her, because that was the only way I could be the kind of mother my daughter could always trust and the kind of mother I wanted to be.
