Teen Confesses What Our Mothers Don't Know

Cherie Bennett
Thu, 14 Oct 2010 00:00:00 -0700
Lifestyle

Hey, Cherie!

This is different from the usual letters that you probably get. I was having a slumber party with a bunch of my girlfriends. We are all in 10th or 11th grade. We were all downstairs in the basement, and my parents' room is upstairs on the second floor. The door to the basement was closed, so there was no way that anyone could listen to what we were saying. Plus, this girl Mairead parked herself at the top of the stairs to hear if anyone was coming.

We made up a game called "What My Mother Doesn't Know." We know that you are a writer so we wanted to tell you that the game's name came from a book title by Sonya Sones. But I think we made the game up ourselves. Basically, it is like Truth or Dare, except there is no dare. We just went around the group and each of us had to confess things that our mothers didn't know.
Updated: Wed Oct 13, 2010

Hey, Cherie!

This is different from the usual letters that you probably get. I was having a slumber party with a bunch of my girlfriends. We are all in 10th or 11th grade. We were all downstairs in the basement, and my parents' room is upstairs on the second floor. The door to the basement was closed, so there was no way that anyone could listen to what we were saying. Plus, this girl Mairead parked herself at the top of the stairs to hear if anyone was coming.

We made up a game called "What My Mother Doesn't Know." We know that you are a writer so we wanted to tell you that the game's name came from a book title by Sonya Sones. But I think we made the game up ourselves. Basically, it is like Truth or Dare, except there is no dare. We just went around the group and each of us had to confess things that our mothers didn't know.

Here are some of the things that we all heard. One girl had been to Planned Parenthood to end a pregnancy and didn't tell her mother. Another had done ecstasy more than once. Another had cheated on a big math test in order to keep her grade up to an A. Another binged and barfed at least once a week. Someone talked about a Facebook boyfriend she had in another state. I heard a girl say that while her mom was on vacation, she took her mom's car and drove it 50 miles. Someone drove their own car 100 miles an hour. Someone else was a secret smoker (none of us knew that!).

I think you get the idea. Here is my question: How much do you think a teen girl should tell her mother about her life? Is it OK to keep the bad stuff secret? Is it OK to have any secrets? And how do you decide what to tell your mother, especially if you will end up being punished for what you reveal?

— What Our Mothers Didn't Know

Hey, What!

This is one of the best letters I've received in the more than 14 years of writing this column. Fourteen years, 52 columns a year and two questions per column. You do the math! But I digress.

Different people, different cultures, different families and different sets of ethics mean that different people — and I count teens as people! — have different feelings about openness and honesty with parents. All I can share with you is my sense of it, which may be different from your sense or your mom's sense.

When it comes to me, I want to know. I would want to know all those things. If I don't know, how can I guide you through the minefield of growing up in the 21st century? Knowing is so important to me that I would consider a no-punishment rule if that's what it took to get my teen to talk to me. That is, I'd rather know and not impose a punishment than not know, hear about it later, and then punish. I understand many could feel legitimately different.

No matter what? Share as much as you can. I think you'll find most parents remember that they were teens, too. Parents had their secrets and they're pretty darn good listeners. Most of all, we care.

Hey, Cherie!

Were you ever a streaker? My dad told me that when he was in college, students used to run across the quad naked just so they could say they did it.

— Clothes Staying On

Hey, Clothes!

Was I ever a streaker? No. Did I ever see streakers? Yes. What did I think? Well, since I was at the University of Michigan in January and it was about 10 degrees below zero, I thought they were out of their minds. Which is maybe what your dad now thinks, too.