Seeing My Teen’s Truth in Her Lies

The Growing Pains of Drunken Nights

Peculiar Julia
Human Parts
Published in
6 min readOct 25, 2023

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Photo by Kinga Howard on Unsplash

I lurch up in bed. Mira*! My first thought is for our sweet sixteen year old, our wayward daughter, due back from training late tonight. There are too many lights and my blankets are tangled with my sleep.

“Is Mira okay?” I ask my husband, framed by the light of the hallway, stood outside our bedroom door.

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Peculiar Julia
Human Parts

Writer of poetry, prose, & the occasional rant. I feed the monsters under my bed story cake & poem pastries. What do you feed them?