Here’s Why Thirteen-Year-Old Kids Are So Ballistic
Alternate title: How to Be Panicked All the Time
Until six months ago, I had no idea what it was like to live with a freshly minted teen. Then I moved in with Megan*, a teenage girl weathering the pandemic like the rest of us: at home.
All. The. Time.
I won’t say she went bonkers (she didn’t, no more than the adults) but there were a handful of moments I found myself questioning her rational decision-making skills. Like the time she fished a poop from the toilet with a spoon. And the time she “solved” not being invited to a party by throwing her own (okay, that one was actually kind of clever).
Which is a very smooth transition into the center of this textual tootsie pop: why Megan and her fellow teen hooligans can’t help but frustrate parents, housemates, and themselves by zooming into the upper atmosphere.
Boredom is a Literal Problem
Thirteen-year-olds aren’t content to wallow in couches until the cows come home. They’re excited. They’re curious. They want, deep down, to know why Rebecca from TikTok cheated on her boyfriend, and they’re ready to fight for her if the situation demands it.
When a thirteen-year-old gets bored, telling them to “Just calm down” is like trying to plug a volcano with loose driftwood. Your efforts, while valiant, are doomed to go up in the flames of teenage angst.
Drama Is Inevitable
The first thing Megan ever confided to me, she did casually, and without warning. While I was sitting at the dining room table, scraping the last tomato from my chicken-tomato plate, she told me, in a matter-of-fact tone, that she was actually a very annoying person, which is why people don’t like me and why I have no friends. Then she smiled sweetly and left me there, poking at my last tomato and wondering whether I should call a mental helpline or if this, too, was the way of the thirteen-year-old.
With all the hormones swirling around those pint-sized teenage bodies, asking a thirteen-year-old for stability is like asking an elephant to sit on Grandma’s rocking chair and not smash that wicker into tiny, mouse-sized pieces.
Everything is a Hyperbole
For example:
- Ow, I think I’m dying. (stubbed a toe)
- If I do X, will everyone hate me? (canceled a plan)
- It’s literally the apocalypse out there. (read the news)
- This is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. (watched a TikTok)
Of course, confront a thirteen-year-old about these later and they’ll either (1) deny they’ve dropped such outrageous allegations or (2) reassure you that they didn’t really mean the world was ending, you silly adult, you.
Friendship is Life
Once, Megan was accused of sending a schoolmate mean messages over Snapchat. Megan didn’t have a Snapchat. Still, the messages were personal and her friends insisted Megan was the culprit.
Megan imploded.
After a series of long phone calls with parents and a fair amount of mother-to-daughter pep talks, reassurances, and (when the crying became intolerable) platitudes, Megan’s mom triumphantly declared the case a wash. No one would be implicated, everyone was a suspect.
To the thirteen-year-old who takes comfort in escaping their family via friends, the stability of friendships can raise or cast down in equal measure.
Conclusion
Thirteen-year-olds aren’t ballistic for nothing. Physically, mentally, and socially, these kids are in the process of climbing a steep learning curve.
Listening to their relationship woes is more than polite: it’s much-needed support.
I’m just happy that my thirteen-year-old is reasonably mature for her age. Having a brother who is highly autistic undoubtedly accelerated the adulting process. His name is Jesse, and a month ago I wrote him an open letter.
Jokes aside, thirteen-year-olds can be pretty cool. They’re people-pleasers and they’re old enough to hold adult conversations. Plus, they give good compliments. The other day, Megan offhandedly told me I was super interesting to talk to.
Highlight of my day, hands down.
- An alias. My thirteen-year-old desires to remain anonymous.
