My mother is my closest friend — as it should be at this stage of my life, considering I’m in my mid-40s. Her strength, wisdom, humor, and life experiences are things I deeply value and need every day. This realization struck me about six weeks after my first child was born when I found myself asking, “Who can I reach out to who will truly understand what I’m experiencing?” That’s when I dialed my mother, sobbing and apologizing for not appreciating her more over the past 24 years, while pleading with her to come stay with me. I could almost feel her smiling through the phone, happy that I finally recognized her as a friend.
I want that kind of relationship with my children. Even though they’re all boys and I know our bond may not be as close as a mother-daughter relationship, I still want them to see me as one of their best friends. However, I’m not interested in that dynamic just yet, because let’s be honest: they are still kids.
I find it hard to comprehend mothers who claim their children are their best friends. In the truest sense of the term, best friends share a profound connection, which I believe is challenging to cultivate within the parent-child dynamic. To be frank, I don’t want to be my kid’s best friend. I can be a mentor, a confidante, and a counselor — but during their childhood, I don’t think a best-friend relationship is appropriate.
I can certainly be friendly with my teenager and discuss meaningful subjects — from politics to life goals, and yes, even the latest hits from their favorite artists. But can we genuinely connect as best friends? Can we share everything without fear of judgment? There are experiences I’ve had that a 17-year-old simply isn’t ready to hear, nor should he be burdened with my adult challenges. He needs to learn and grow on his own, without my input, as a true best friend might offer. As his parent, my job is to ensure he stays on course, but I’m not here to share the steering wheel.
To be honest, if he were to text and drive or engage in underage drinking, his peers wouldn’t react the same way I would. They lack the emotional maturity to fully grasp the serious consequences of such actions. That’s my role as a parent — to provide guidance, not friendship.
My children and I don’t need to make big decisions together like I do with my partner. One of us must be the responsible voice of reason, the anchor of stability, and that must be the parent. In a best-friend dynamic, that responsibility is shared, but in a mother-child relationship, I don’t want my teenager to be the voice of reason. If that were the case, we’d likely spend our days skipping school and playing video games.
If you’ve managed to be your child’s best friend while they’re still young and maintain authority, I commend you. That’s quite an achievement — one that I hope you can sustain through the challenging teenage years and the inevitable distance that comes when they head off to college or move out.
For me and my sons, our relationship will remain as it is; we are close, but I’m not seeking to be BFFs with someone who hasn’t even dipped a toe into adulthood yet. But when the day comes that one of my children reaches out, similar to how I contacted my mother years ago, I will be ready to embrace that new phase of our relationship — the genuine best-friend connection.
For more insights on parenting and home insemination, check out this post on home insemination techniques or explore fertility supplements at Make A Mom. Additionally, the CDC provides excellent resources on pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary
This article reflects on the author’s relationship with her mother and her desire to foster a similar bond with her sons. While she values friendship, she believes the parent-child dynamic should prioritize guidance and mentorship over friendship during childhood.