LAST weekend, my 15-year-old daughter went on her first “solo” flight without an adult companion. It was just her and one friend that stayed two nights in Manila. My heart was in stitches and a part of me wanted to go with them to make sure things would be okay. My paranoia was in full force, but I had to suppress it. It was definitely harder for me!
At this stage, there are some things that she has to learn to do alone. Navigating the city with her friend, of course with precautions in place, was an adventure she looked forward too; and something that my gut told me I should not intrude upon. I was happy she was able to take her exam, meet up with family, and go out with friends.
Unfortunately, on her flight back home, I got an S.O.S call that she and her friend were being picked-on by a power-tripping agent of Cebu Pacific at NAIA T3. They had done web check-in and were set to go to their gate, when the said agent stopped them, and forced them to check-in their small carry-ons for a fee.
They reasoned out that they were carrying only that and a small backpack (which serves as their handbag); stating that these items were the exact ones they were allowed to use on the flight going there. The only extra was the MaryGrace shopping bag of cheese rolls, which they could easily stuff into their backpacks.
The agent asked for their IDs and knew that they were minors. They both asked her to hold-on because they wanted to talk to their parents, being very well aware of their rights as passengers. But while on the phone, the gate agent tagged the bags and placed them on the bag-drop conveyor belt without their consent. She gave them a paper charging them 20kilos, leaving them no choice but to pay.
The two teens argued and said that their bags were not even overweight, with the agent smugly retorting one was 7.5 and the other 8 kilos. You do the math! The allowed carry-on weight is 7 kilos. They could have transferred stuff to their backpacks. But the agent rebutted that the suitcases were inside. They tried to get her full name and asked for her ID, but she would not give it, citing privacy reasons.
My daughter called stating the girl was picking on them because others with bigger luggage and more shopping bags were allowed in without any hitches. She told me: “Mom, I asked to speak to a supervisor but no one wanted to own up to it. They were very rude! We were pressed for time, so the best solution was to just pay the P1,000. But really, this is not fair. What if it happened to someone who has no funds?”
Clearly, my daughter and her friend have more common sense than the agent Cebu Pacific chose to represent their company. If I could, I would have physically gone over the phone lines to b*tchslap that poor excuse of a person. But being a parent to teens means having them to fight their own battles. And that is the hardest part of parenting teenagers—when you have to sit back and watch while they sort their own stuff out because the bigger and better teacher in life is experience.
Unfortunately, no matter how much guidance we as parents give, we cannot protect our children from crappy people. At times, mistakes will even happen. It’s inevitable. Tough choices must be made. Hearts will hurt. And often, our words as a parent will not be enough to soothe our teens’ flustered feelings.
I suddenly recall what an older mom said to me many years ago at the Nashua Public Library, when I was then a mom of a 2.5 year old and a one month old baby. There were no yayas, and I was exhausted. I told her she was lucky when I saw her reading at leisure, while her older kids were reading magazines.
She smiled at me and whispered with merriment: “Oh, honey, you will remember me when they’re bigger. I am telling you toddlers are physically hard. Newborns will make you surrender with all the sh*t in their diapers. But teens, they are draining. They can make you feel like sh*t. And sadly, they make your heart hurt more! But they’re still my greatest joy and I love them.”
Ain’t that the truth.
When it comes to emotional and mental exertion, teenagers have proven to be more significantly challenging. When do we push and when do we back off? The moodiness, the hormones, ah, the drama. At times, particularly when mine are sassy, I cannot believe it, but I have this rage I never knew was possible towards my own flesh and blood. And then there’s this sadness that creeps so deep into my bones and my heart. I ache at the thought of my teens leaving home for college, and then for good. How do I stop time?
When they’re newborns, we parents look ahead and we see infinite possibilities for their future. When they’re in preschool and elementary, we still see an abundance of time. And suddenly, bam...it creeps on us. High school with our young adults choosing friends over us. They struggle for independence and are faced with all these choices that will have a huge impact on their adulthood and future lives. We can only give advice, but in the end, it’s their decisions to make.
Then we know, it’s no longer just child’s play, and soon, we will be faced with the ultimate symbol of a parent’s love: letting go. Our children are never ours to keep. We nurture, love, and teach them good values, so we can eventually release them to soar high. Ironically, one of the signs of good parenting is when they are confident enough to stand alone. We can only hope we have grounded our children enough, so they will keep on coming back. And as parents, we will be patiently waiting, we will always be there, and we will forever welcome them with open hearts and arms.