The queenager and teenager: Parallel lives of moms and teens
My dad once told me that teenagers are like aliens. One day, you don’t recognize them anymore. They answer back, they assert themselves, and you don’t really know what to do. The same can be said of a 40-something woman. There is a reason that teenagers and their mothers clash. Both are going through profound physiological, psychological, and emotional changes. Teens are faced with a surge of hormones, making them into the adults they will soon be. They test boundaries to prepare for their adult life.
Mothers at this age, for the most part, are also going through hormonal changes and a time of self-discovery. As a mother of two teenagers, I am finding parallels in my own life and that of my children.
Living for myself
After decades of living up to something or living for others, I’m finally able to live for myself. As a student, I was exemplary—on the student council, with good grades, and a good social life. I did well in university, and straight after that, fulfilled the role of “young working person.”
At that stage, I started at the bottom and worked my way up to earn the respect of my bosses. This is really the time that you prove yourself—when you are starting out in a career.
Soon after that, I was married, and three months after that, pregnant with my first child. My husband and I didn’t have much time to ourselves—instead, we became new parents after only a few months of navigating married life together. For the next 12 years or so, my kids were at the center of everything I did. Those last 12 years were also filled with building my career, maintaining and navigating friendships, and going through very busy days.
Teenagers, on the other hand, are faced with pressures in school, as they have to make choices that will seemingly affect the rest of their lives. Perhaps because I had my children young, I am able to remember how it felt to be 16 and how I was made to feel like my academics would determine the rest of my life.
Things start to change. The kids don’t need me physically around as much and are going through the motions of fitting in with friends. Strangely, I found myself going through this as well. Some people no longer resonated with me. I set boundaries on where my energy would be spent, where effort would be put, while protecting my peace. It was a journey that took a couple of years—just like my teens—to find myself in a place where I am comfortable with myself.
It turns out that hormones have a lot to do with the many changes women go through—your body is signalling that it’s time to finally find yourself. Just like teenagers who are signalled by hormones to start finding themselves, these same hormones signal women to find themselves again.
When your body stops saying yes
Perimenopause—the transition phase that typically begins for women in their early-to-mid forties (though it can start earlier)—is usually described in terms of what it takes away. Sleep. A predictable cycle. Comfortable body temperature. The word on the tip of your tongue.
But there is another conversation we rarely have: about what perimenopause gives back. And for many women, what it gives back is themselves.
The hormonal changes of this stage are profound and widely misunderstood. Estrogen and progesterone don’t simply decline in a straight line—they fluctuate wildly before their long descent. These hormones have shaped not just your reproductive cycle, but your mood, your social behavior, your anxiety baseline, and even—as research suggests—your tendency to prioritize others above yourself. The hormones that allow you to be tolerant of so many things, including stress for the sake of getting along, have one goal—to be able to reproduce. And these are suddenly shifting in their levels.
Suddenly, things I was okay with before irritated me. Gym trainers who were always a little late lost me as a client. The noisy, messy couple in the gym who leave the door open, the equipment lying around, and those meeting their online trainer on their tablet at full blast (not with earphones) so the entire gym can hear their conversation about her training regimen and how she doesn’t feel motivated anymore—get told off. The guards at school who allow non-parent drivers to park in parent parking get reported, and people who make inconsistent rules (so common here) get an earful from me.
In the past, it was thought that women my age were overly grumpy because of “menopause,” but it turns out that our bodies are telling us not to put up with crap, for the sake of peace.
But it’s not all chaos. In the midst of all of this, I have been enjoying doing things for myself.
The term “queenager” has been circulating on social media, and I can definitely see this happening in my life. I am enjoying K-pop concerts with my daughter and screaming when my bias comes on. Unlike when I was a teen, I can afford the good tickets with merch. I can sing along loudly in the car, which I drive myself, after learning how to drive just last year. There’s no driver there to have to behave in front of. I can wear my designer bag loaded with K-pop key chains and bag charms, because I can and because I want to—no longer concerned with what other people will think. I’ve even begun to learn, enjoy, and compete in an individual sport: tennis.
Fork found in kitchen
Someone asked me recently what my favorite color was. “Juana likes pink” is tantamount to “fork found in kitchen,” a saying I learned when I was 14 years old. I have always loved to get dressed and wear bright colors. I look back at my photos as a teenager, and I wore clothes by Adam de Lumen and Cecile Zamora, wore brightly colored parachute pants, and even had pink hair at one point. Then, along the way, I found myself trying to fit into a preppy mold (so boring). I tried to “tone down,” especially when my first cookbook, “Mesa ni Misis,” came out, as I took on the persona—simple, clean, and healthy.
After struggling internally, my second book, “Juana’s Table,” is a true representation of what I am—just look at the cover. These days, I embrace my pinks and bright colors—even in tennis—with the knowledge that I don’t need to fit any mold.
It’s the same self-discovery that I see my kids going through. Just the other day, someone in my tennis camp said I looked “magastos” because of all my tennis outfits. That’s right—I’m finally enjoying something on my own, and getting all the gear to go with it.
While I was tempted to hate on the naysayer, I realized that there are still Bitter Bettys out there, whose behavior never got corrected. Perhaps their hormones are sending different signals, or they have yet to go through self-discovery, but I have found—and through the counsel and guidance of wise friends—that when you evolve, you find that others do not. Or perhaps, some people finally have the balls to say what they’ve always wanted to say out loud.
Either way, it’s a good thing I am in a stage in my life where I don’t give a flying leap of what anyone thinks about me, and that I’m a little more understanding of people. Biology definitely works for self-preservation.
Self-discovery and self-expression vs blending in
While moms are going through a journey of self-discovery and speaking their minds, teenagers would rather blend in with everyone else. This is another point of contention, where moms say embarrassing things, while teens want to crawl under a rock. Mom is simply expressing what she thinks because she doesn’t care who hears you say she loves you, while teens would rather play it cool.
I wish I could imbibe the same bold attitude in teens. Middle school is tough on many kids, girls especially, because of peer pressure, friend group exclusion, and the anxiety and drama that comes with it. But I realized that this happens for many all over again when they become mothers and form “mom friend groups.” The bad behavior of these girls is still there; they just got older.
The same drama and trauma from middle school come back—only now, you have the tools to navigate and, I hope, the good sense to know your worth, and not behave like a teenager.
While coming of age often refers to teenage years, I think that your 40s are the true coming of age. You are fully yourself, and have the time, resources, and skills to really manage your life on your own terms. I hope that while navigating all these changes (as well as those of my kids), we can all grow together, into the people who finally understand themselves—and each other—a little better.
