Giving your teen wings can be hard. Especially when you live a quick train ride from Manhattan.
I grew up in the Midwest. Far enough from any big city “dangers” that it was an issue my parents never had to worry about. And call me a female version of a male chauvinist, but I didn’t fret as much about letting my boys make this big step as I have about my daughter.
But it’s a transition we’re making. At 17, she is now comfortable taking the train (with friends) into the city and getting herself to Times Square and a few other spots in Midtown. And that’s a good thing.
Sure, I want her to be safe. But learning how to handle herself in the big-city setting is all part of the experience that will help her do just that. And she made trips with her father and me before we let her venture out without adult supervision.
Of course, thank goodness for cell phones. If she disappeared on a train and then we didn’t hear from her until her return to the station, I’d be pacing the floor. But we can text and know where she is and that all is well.
Just another step on her flight into adulthood.