When you dread hearing their footsteps

Wendy dreaded hearing her daughter's footsteps.

She has a 16-year-old daughter, Emma, and for a long time, nearly every interaction felt… loaded.

Not explosive. Just tense. Snappy.
Like even the smallest question might set something off.

Wendy would knock on Emma's door to hand her clean laundry and hear:

"WHAT?!"

Or she'd ask, "Who are you hanging out with today?" and get:

"Why do you care?"

She told me:

"I feel on edge all the time. I hate that I'm starting to avoid my own kid."

On the outside, she was handing her kid clean laundry.
On the inside, she was terrified she'd already lost her.

At night, she'd lie in bed thinking:

How did we get here? And how do I get her back without making it worse?

That's the part most parents don't say out loud.

Not the arguments. Not the attitude.

But this:

I don't like how this feels between us… and I don't know how to fix it.

You brace before you ask a simple question.
You second-guess your tone.
You wonder if saying anything will just make it worse.

And underneath all of that…

something quieter starts to creep in:

Maybe I'm the one messing this up.
Maybe I've already pushed too hard.
Maybe I don't know how to reach her anymore.

That thought—maybe I'm the one messing this up—is one of the most common things I hear.

And one of the most painful.

That thought doesn't mean you've broken something.

It means you care more than you know what to do with right now.

🧡 Jeanine

Comment and tell me—what's one moment lately that's been getting to you?