Trying To Let Go

Last night, due to a purely innocent and unintended sequence of events, I happened to find myself looking at an open Facebook chat conversation between my daughter and a young man I did not know. I swear, I only started reading it because I thought I was in my own login, rather than hers; but he had made an off-color comment that I would have loved to respond to in person. I was tempted to remove him as a friend on Tasha's behalf, a move that Facebook warns "cannot be undone." I was tempted to track him down and call him. I was tempted to track him down and call his mother. I finally just logged out of her account.

When I was her age, I'd already gotten into more trouble and had more near misses than I (as the mother of teens) now want to think about. I keep telling myself that she's got the brains, the tools and all the right reasons to make good choices, and we're getting to the point where I have to back off and let her deal with this stuff on her own. But sometimes it's hard.