
Teen Mom
I am the oldest child of a teenage mother. My mom discovered she was pregnant when she was 16 and still in high school. My dad a first year university student chose to quit advanced education and marry her, go to work in an oil refinery, often double 16 hour shifts in a noisy, stinky environment (I know because he brought those smells home with him). The miracle is, though both of my young parents were adoptees, I was not also given up for adoption. I will be forever grateful for that.
I had not considered what my mom may have endured as a teen mother. And in fact, she had my younger sister only 13 months later. Today, I saw an article in a Huffington Post “Personal” essay by Laura Good, a teen mom – LINK>I Had My Daughter At 16. I Was Shocked By These Things People Felt Comfortable Saying To Me. She adds – “While people regularly expected me to tell them how I would fix my ruined life… I can’t help but notice the questions I was not asked.”
She also admits that “My responses change depending on the tone of the comment. They vary from matter-of-fact to sarcastic and snide.” She notes that it’s common among pregnant people to have to navigate unsolicited opinions and advice from strangers. Being pregnant as a child also invites that behavior, but the overall tone takes a sharp turn toward shaming and judgment.
She remembers “I would get comments from people at the grocery store, people in waiting rooms, phlebotomists, hairstylists, friends, parents of friends, bullies, strange adults, and people from my school whom I’d never spoken to before. Mostly they felt entitled to know how old I was, who got me pregnant and what I was planning to do with my baby.” blogger’s note – That last one is code for are you going to give up your baby for adoption ?
She did not give up her daughter but chose to parent. She shares how she was able to manage that. “Things would have been much harder as a young mom if I hadn’t had the support of my own mother. Thanks to her, my daughter has so many treasured memories of time spent with her grandma growing up. I also had the support of one of my mother’s dear friends, who took me and my infant daughter in during a very dark time and included us in her family. We are still family to this day.”
“Between them and a few of my close friends, I raised my daughter surrounded by a beautiful circle of strong women. Even so, it wasn’t until my daughter was grown up that I began to chip away at the layers of shame that had been holding me together for close to 20 years of my life.”
She notes that “People routinely made major assumptions about me and my character that were never based in fact. Several of my daughter’s teachers underestimated my intelligence or assumed I was an irresponsible parent before speaking to me. One of her elementary school teachers told me that I was a bad parent because my child was tired at school one day.”
“Shame has a tangible impact on our brains and self-image, affecting our neurobiology and attachment style. When we are shamed by our community, we begin to feel like we are not worthy of love and belonging. It can become a part of our personalities. The shame I experienced in my life has profoundly shaped how I walk through the world. It has taken years of therapy and self-work to get over that, and that work is not done.”
She is also surprised by the questions no one ever asked her – Are you OK? Things like: Do you need support? Things like: Are you safe? She acknowledges the lack of gender equality in her situation and notes – “I raised a child while navigating severe PTSD, and I shouldered all of the blame.”
The good news that she shares is this – “My daughter and I grew up together, and we have a powerful bond and a wonderful relationship. I did my best to raise her with care and validation. She is almost 30 now, and I am so proud of the person she has become. I’m very intentional about the kinds of people I surround myself with now. I certainly couldn’t have done the parenting job I did without the help and support of my chosen community.”
She also shares – “I’m so passionate about advocacy and empowerment that I went back to school and earned a master’s degree in clinical social work, or MSW. My daughter joined me on stage for the hooding ceremony that is part of graduating with a master’s degree. Having her put that sash over my head and walking up there with me was an incredibly fulfilling moment. I recently started my first job as a mental health therapist. It’s truly a gift that I now get to support other people in healing from their shame and trauma.”








