Raising Teens: Becoming the Lighthouse

Posted on August 27, 2026 by Vania

I am just back from a vacation of a lifetime with my youngest. It was our first ‘just the two of us’ trip. It was to honour her passage into high school, and so l gave her a girls’ weekend at a favourite city with all the perks of a city that never sleeps – shopping, good food, and lots of selfies.

This summer has been all about marking this developmental transition of adolescence. My big kid was home alone overnight for the first time, we had our first parents-only camping trip, and both kids got a big trip with just one parent. This is us honouring what is ending and also becoming. And, i don’t mean what is happening for our kids. We too as parents are in a transition season: The end of school-age parenthood needs to be honoured in ceremony. It may not be a major life transition but it is still a rite of passage.

I’m glad i’m not alone in wanting to honour these initiations with some type of pomp and circumstance. I’ve been watching the show Sterling Point with my youngest. It has been such a good bonding opportunity as we watch certain episodes, stories, and themes. We have a cottage near the location so it’s an added bonus to watch the show from this vantage point. One storyline that i loved was how the group celebrated Maple starting her menstrual cycle. They made her a flower crown, howled like wolves, and shared advice. I had a ceremony for my daughter when she started her menarche. At the time, she was not as into it as i am, so seeing this portrayed in the show was really exciting for me. It normalized ceremony as an important part of growing up. If you want to see my hot take on the show as a therapist and mom to teens, take a look at my recent instagram post.

In the coming weeks, both my kids will be in high school. This is a pivotal rite of passage for me as well as my youngest kiddo. It dawned on me only a few weeks after school ended that I need to honour the rite of passage for myself. It was our last year at the same tiny alternative school both my kids started at when they were a mere four years old. She celebrated the end of an era for herself. She had a party after-party, and got all dolled up. As much as we honour commencement and ceremonies for our kids when they’re moving through different pivotal stages of school, we also need to have a way to mark this for ourselves. And so this is something I’m noticing I need to do as my youngest starts high school.

And so, I am working on crafting a ceremony for myself to honour the arrival of high school. I need to mark this transition for myself, and i suspect other mothers will gladly participate to honour this threshold for themselves too. Plus, i am always looking for a good reason to host a ceremony.

It is time we brought back more ceremony into our lives, and less superficial celebration.

A rite of passage is not just celebrating the transition. It is needs to include some work and letting go. It needs to honour what is ending and also offer a bit of elbow grease. Marking it in this way offers the somatic experience of The Return, the coming back but anew felt sense. In Arnold van Gennep’s Book, Rites of Passage, he shared that this step is key and often overlooked. Having time to to integrate an experience is as important as embarking on it. We may not go on pilgrimages as a society anymore (though i definitely advocate for one) but we can practice a modernized version of a quest. It might look like a camping week, a portaging adventure, a summer work experience, or a trip.

Maybe not the most fancy of activities, but one thing we did was request some household projects to be done by our kids. As part of my teenagers experience for the summer, we had them do a few tasks and chores around the house. Some of things that they’ve never done before. And so when my eldest was sanding down the deck, I noticed they were sitting on our rickety outdoor dinner table. I asked them to not sit on it because it was precarious. They grunted and complained and rolled their eyes at me, but stood up. An hour later, they came up to me with the invisible tail between their legs and admitted that they sat on the table again and it cracked.

The moral of the story isn’t that they did the thing I told her not to. It’s that they felt safe to come and tell me they did the thing and knew I’d be upset and possibly even say I told you so and they still came to me because they couldn’t fix it alone. They trusted that even if I was angry at them that the love was always going to remain.
This is what I want to happen if they were ever to do anything out in the world that made them feel scared or in danger: To call me no matter what.

As the saying goes: Small kids, small problems; Big kids, bigger problems.

Raising a teenage daughter today is a modern-day version of the myth of Demeter and Persephone, but the lure is social media and not Hades. Or maybe social media is the new Hades, in a more modern trickster suit. I’m fighting to keep my daughter close but I am competing with a greater force and that is her phone. I’m not fighting my kid about her phone, I’m fighting the attention the phone takes from me. Our smartphones were supposed to be a place we sometimes visit, not a place that we live in all the time. This is my work-in-progress project. As my teen enters the high school jungle, i know that i need to hold onto her a bit more. My grip may not be as tight but it needs to remain nonetheless.

I’m needing to do that consciously and not reactively, so that I don’t fall into anxiety and instead have a clear path that helps me stay clear and secure. I need to also do this in a way that doesn’t lose myself in motherhood as I enter my new Virgin territory.

Many of us are raising children and being parents as an over-correction because we were raised by parents that were emotionally immature or unavailable and so we want to be the most present, attuned, available, and understanding parents to our own children now.

I remember having fights with my own mom about my friends, how long i was on the phone at night, and our competing needs. Now i see it as normal teenage woes. Back then, I grew up being told by my mom “wait until you have a teenage daughter. That will be your karma.”

Maybe it’s not revenge that my kid is giving me a hard time. Rather it’s destiny as a developmental stage. Teens are meant to protest as a way to build individuation. I know this now. I also now see that my mom may have been going through perimenopause at the time i was a teen, and i really wish this was spoken about then. I get back to this point soon.

A part of healing these parts was to first unlearn that anger is scary or destabilizing so that my children can embody it more fully.

I have internalized a wound of unprocessed anger due to ongoing unmet needs, and it is what is fighting with my child at this developmental stage. What i couldn’t say to my mom back then is hard to hear my kid say to me. It’s not karma that i have a sassy kid. It’s a pattern that has taken generations to get to me, and i can now heal what wasn’t repaired. My own Inner Sassy Teen Part is very headset on being able to say what she needed back then. My Mother Parts need her to remember that my kid has her own needs now.

Our teens also lose the mother that they had as a younger child themselves. Gone are the play-based days, the years of wonderment and mini-me dress up. We must grieve the end of that chapter, so we can accept and birth this new one that evolved from it, and also offers more depth and closeness in the present.

‘Becoming a mother leaves no woman as it found her. It unravels and rebuilds her. It cracks her open, takes her to her edges. It’s both beautiful and brutal, often at the same time’. ~ Nikki McCahon

Matrescence is the adjustment period to motherhood, and I think this initiation of becoming a mother to teens needs its own great passage or marker so that we don’t step into it unconsciously or uninitiated, but rather with our eyes wide open. I thought i was moving out of the stage of motherhood, only to realize that it is more that i was moving into a new stage OF motherhood. I was getting excited to claim the identity of Mage/Queen/Virgin, but i am not there yet: I may be perimenopausal and i am still mothering. I’m a baby mage, eager for this new stage of life but it is not yet where i stand.

I’m still crawling.

I am one of the mothers now who are in perimenopause while my children are in puberty. We are not supposed to be at these intersecting stages. In a recent issue of Hot Flash Mag, Jessie Harrold says it so well: “Here we are losing that biological wiring to nurture, and our kids actually need more from us than they probably would have for our foremothers. So there’s this real tension and conflict. The mothering I thought I was going to be doing at this age is very different from the mothering I am doing, which is far more intensive.”

A part of the becoming that happens is that we put on a new suit as advocates and mama bears for our children. No one‘s going to have our kids back like we do; even when we say no to our kid it’s because we have the best interest for them in mind. The tension is that our kiddo may not see it that way, and we need to stand our ground. This is where the messy hormonal conflict can pay a role, and be a toll on our connection. I need to remember my role as a parent is to guide my children to their fullest potential, to grow and evolve, to reach maturation. For this wisdom, i thank Gordon Neufeld.

Parenting teens is learning to embrace your new role as the lighthouse keeper. You are now watching from the beach. You are close enough to touch them, to see and hear them and just enough distance for them to find their own way. In Kim Jon Payne’s book, The Art of Discipline, he offers another theory – the 3 stages of Parenthood – the Governess, Gardener, and Guardian. I am embracing the newly minted Guardian role. It is a time of becoming the guide for my children, not activity playing or weeding like i have been.

Whenever i get a bit lost in the waters of motherhood in modern-times, i come back to my anchor, that is remembering my role as a mother. In their book, Sil Reynolds (now Read) and her daughter Eliza, Mothering and Daughtering, offer us some insight and guidance on how to move through this messy stage. To start, Sil shares that “Mothering” can be seen as a verb, the action of helping our children become the adults they are meant to be. She also offers that we need to incorporate intentional quality time together – like my big trip with my kid and watching teen dramas together. It also serves us to understand counterwill and learn to read our child’s cues. This has been such a life saver of mine over these last few months. And it’s still a work-in-progress.

I was recently gifted a beautiful deck of cards by my friend Jessie Harrold. She wrote the wonderful book Mothershift, which is a guide through matrescence and finding our north star as parents. This deck is a visual reference that helps us see what kind of mother we are at a specific moment in time. I am no longer the Crafty Mom or archetype. According to Jessie, I am the Heron Mom: I am walking the threshold between who i was a mom and who i becoming. That means i need to trust the magic and also grieve what is no longer true. I can feel the pull of the Imaginal Mother who is becoming who i truly am, but it will take time to mothermorphize (a word Jessie and i made up) as my kiddo has to adjust to being in high school herself, first.

Speaking of getting lost in the waters, one thing i do when i feel like i’m drowning in unfamiliar waters is to seek out who has been here before. This new terrain of mothering teenagers may be new to me, but i am not the first parent to do so. This is not uncharted territory. Ideally, this is where mothering mentors come in. I have found some older mothers in my life that i can turn to at times, but not consistently or for the actually themes i need support in. Since we live in a society that is void of true mentorship, i have to turn to some other guides. Folk tales, myths and the timeless stories of our ancient ones and ancestors.

And, for me that includes looking at mythopoetic stories that depict motherhood in universal time and space. It’s a good thing that there are many examples. One of my favourites is the story of the Greek goddess of Harvest, Demeter, and her daughter Persephone. It is Persephone (or Kore’s) journey to the underworld and her mother’s grief of losing her daughter that we can thank for our seasons.

What i have also found is that the story of Persephone as many variations. For instance, Carolyn Elliot shares in her powerful book, Existential Kink, that maybe Persephone’s journey was in fact subconsciously manifested by herself as a way to integrate her shadow parts and becoming whole. We need both our conscious and unconscious parts to complete us after all. And maybe, Persephone’s flight to the underworld was her way to get space from her over-bearing mother. Maybe she needed this time to find out who she was. So she rebelled and flew the coop (like i did at 16, incidentally). This allowed her to find herself and integrate the tension of opposition and reliance, struggle and ease, independence and connection. And Demeter herself had to reckon with the truth that her daughter needed to find herself separate from her role as a daughter. I like to think that Demeter had to grieve losing her daughter as a maiden in order for her to find herself in mid-life as a woman herself, and not just her leading identity as a mother. In her acceptance and surrender of Persephone’s individuation, Demeter was initiated into Virgin Mother territory – a woman who belongs to herself first, who is whole unto herself and who has the qualities and strengths of a Mother. She no longer puts her needs last, she models that having needs is not only okay but a part of being human. In fact, it is through her practice of caring for herself that she is paving the path for her child to reach individuation and maturation herself.

So maybe the story of these two goddesses set the stage for us all along. Maybe they carved a path for us to follow but we forgot that Persephone needs to find herself on her own, and we are meant to grieve what is ending – not the relationship but itself but the duties that came with it change over time. Grief means needing to say goodbye to what was in order to become anew and also find our new meaning. Maybe our modern-day experience raising daughters is not that different than Demeter and Persephone’s. What offers me solace is that it is just a stage and Persephone comes back. When we trust this, it makes the grief in Winter tolerable.

Menomorphosis and The Lost Art of Ceremony

Posted on May 25, 2026 by Vania

As part of my initiation of turning 50 last year, i gifted myself a last step of integration that came with this pivotal birthday. As i have been immersing myself in womb healing training and offerings thanks to my perimenopause awakening, i felt called to receive a womb massage called Sobada from a traditional Mayan healer. Mexico has a special place in my heart and connects me to my mother. So, i took my family to Mexico. I spoke about the trip a bit in another post.

This part of my passage was transformative. The massage and womb ceremony were just what i needed to tend to my changing body. What happened at the end is what will stay with me for years to come. During the session i received Closing the Bones medicine. My body was encased in fabrics that are indigenous to Mayan culture. They are sacred, woven scarves called rebozos that create a womb-like holding of the body, very much like a chrysalis or Egyptian mummy.

“After decades spent waiting, she took her place as an Elder when those elder than her had not, because those elder to them had not. She initiated herself so that one day she could initiate someone else.” ~ Rebecca Campbell
My eyes were covered the whole time, and this offered me more internal visioning. It brought me down and through. It was during this descent that I felt the presence of my grandmothers. As my bones and body were put back in place, my red thread line joined me. My mother and grandmothers came to be with me from beyond the veil. They sat at my feet and offered me company, presence, and the missing community i have been searching for. What they also shared with me was gratitude for my decision to provide myself this loving touch because in doing so, i was also healing them. My healing was their healing. And i received the closure i needed, as well as the confirmation that i am on the right track.

What a true honour to be held this way. This session offered me the clarity and confidence i needed to step more calmly onto my next stage of life. In more ways than one, i am evolving.

Our ancestors knew something about gathering and marking times of change. No matter where your people are from or what they celebrated, it was with reverence and ritual. Births and deaths were honoured, sacred unions were celebrated, and all were seen as sacred passages of initiation and transformation.

We have lost this art of being in sacred gatherings. Our mothers and grandmothers maybe didn’t get to have this honouring as ageism and misogyny stole this from them. I never got to see the goddess rise in my own mother. Moreover, I wasn’t able to realize that my mom was a goddess. I am healing this mother wound and gate of grief in real time now, even after my mom’s death.

In a few days time, i will be offering a ceremony for women who are standing at the menopause threshold, or have already crossed it and didn’t get to experience an initiation for menopause. It is never too late to experience the ceremonial medicine that marks the blood rites of passage. I am doing it as a way to honour my mother and what she didn’t get to receive. I feel like i have her blessing now that she has been present during this stage of my becoming.

My mother’s death was a catalyzing experience for me. It created a shift in my timeline, and i think ultimately brought me back to my original blueprint. For the last 4 years, i have been learning the sacred art of anointment, both as a way to fully embrace my priestess path and spiritual devotion as well as honour my lineage. My mom was a chemist, and studied aromatherapy and essential oils. I inherited her many books and supplies about aromatherapy, herbal medicine, and plant allies. I will never know the whole story about her inspiration, but i do know she wanted more for her life and turned to creating art like this, so this is part of my motherline. I am finding my own way with it, by incorporating the oils i make with love and intention as part of my rituals and ceremonies, and regular devotional practice.

The stages in between times of transition, of blood rites and rites of passage like adolescence and perimenopause are thresholds. They are the liminal space between two landings. This is like the chrysalis stage in the story of becoming a caterpillar. Known as clay time as things make more of an impression of who were becoming in these rites of passage, we need to be held during this messy and tumultuous time.

In the book, The Menopause Brain, the author shared coming across the word “menostart” as an alternative to menoPAUSE. I appreciate this reframe because it is not true that things are only ending at this stage of life. So much also begins. Or at least there is the potential for it. That’s why we need to honour it with ceremony in order to reclaim this stage of life with the reverence it deserves.

I came up with a word that truly encapsulates this change for me – menomorphosis. It creates a helpful frame for the transformation that comes with menopause. There truly is alchemy in the goo that is perimenopuase. It is not just a fertile void or hot sweats – it is the fire that is coming back alive to help create something new from something old.

Thresholds like perimenopause offer us a chance to slow down and find intention in the initiation. Similar to pregnancy and birth, they offer us an invitation to step into our full experience in this rite of passage. Rites of passage are initiatory acts of crossing from one chapter in our life to another; from maiden to mother, to sage and crone.

“Initiations are a sacred offering of what needs to die so that we can live what is ours to live.” ~ Blaire Lindsay
Perimenopause offers us a reset. It is a time to step into our power as a woman and it offers an initiation of a spiritual transformation. The act of being witnessed through the change offer us the chance to step more confidently into the next chapter of our life story. Otherwise, we persist in a spiritual purgatory of sorts, a liminal space between two worlds. When we are not held in community, our soul and psyche struggle to find a place to land; it is our soul that is in crisis.

Pause before the Change
Developmental stages are physiological changes we all go through. Rites of passage fuse the science and biology of developmental stages with the spiritual initiation that is meant to support it. When we bring ceremony into the change, it facilitates a deeper initiation and ultimate ascent. We have lost the language and relevance of ritual and ceremony. This may be because we wanted to separate church from state, but i think it’s also because men in power didn’t want the strength and expertise of women to shine. It is in medicine, shamanism, ceremony and gathering that women are strong after all.

We need to endure the hardships in order to embrace the gifts that come with menopause.

While we surely need to embrace this inevitable change, we need to grieve our former self and what is now over. I’m not even talking about our bodies here. Don’t get me started on that, or maybe that is another journal yet to be written. This transition does come with a change in our energy and capacity as we clean house so that we can shed what is no longer needed. Luckily, with this loss comes an awakening – the birth of our “I Don’t Care” part – that had to grow out of the burn-out of the Good Girl and What About Me parts of us. What may be a consequence of that is the added loss of relationships as some folks who preferred us nice and polite will struggle with our new-found liberation.

A Way with Words – The Etymology of Words
The word sacrifice offers a hint to what is at its core – The root word of sacrifice is ‘sacer’ – to make sacred. So, when we sit with this reframe, we can see initiations as a sacred offering of what needs to die so that we can live more intentionally with what is still alive in us now. Sacrifice requires courage, devotion, and trust. It helps to think of our body as a story book character experiencing a fairy tale arc of surprise, surrender, and transformation.

Rituals bring us back in rhythm with life, and offer more harmony with nature, life, each other, and spirit itself. The word ‘rite’ bleeds right into its home in ritual. The Sanskrit word for ritual is rta and means ‘cosmic order’ or a natural flow of the universe. If we want to reclaim this ancient and universal understanding, this primordial truth, we need to remember that rituals are designed to honour significant moments and transitions in our lives. Be it starting school, graduating, our first job, or break-up, our home, all are thresholds we are meant to be walked through, not step across alone.

There is a song i love that keeps reminding me that life is a ceremony. We don’t need to host extravagant galas or go on expensive retreats to live a ceremonial life. The root of the word ceremony is ‘caerimonia’, the Latin word means sacred rites, religious worship, and a felt sense of awe and reverence. It is no wonder then, that being in ceremony changes us. It is meant to as it offers a deeper connection to our wombic home. Ceremony weaves us back into the original fabric that is our full aliveness, and it offers us a reminder of our shared existence on this living earth.

I have spoken before that ritual and ceremony are the first practices of therapy, of mind and soul medicine. In their beautiful book, The Seven Circles: Indigenous Teachings for Living Well, Chelsey Luger and Thosh Collings share a detailed list of benefits that ceremony offers folks. Participating in ceremony as a witness as well as the main guest of honour offer similar balms for ourselves. It can strengthen our community and re-villaging hopes as it restores our relationships and strengthens morale; it fosters both spiritual health as well as reminds us of our place within nature and the land, by also expanding and deepening our worldview, and it regulates our bodies to prepare for other life transitions.

It is through the practices of ritual and ceremony that we can mark a clear arc and story – through a beginning until the end. There is a clear container and they are meant to change us.

“A woman’s initiation includes many moments of crossing a threshold. This threshold is the bridge to our feminine soul, and crossing over is the beginning of becoming.” ~ Sue Monk Kidd
We are meant to be seen in our new skin upon stepping through the threshold. Group ceremonies that gathered folks together offered the witness element that is so missing now. Where are our elders, the village aunties who can pass down their wisdom? It is no wonder that social media is having a hay day with perimenopausal folks sharing their experiences – gone is the sacred ceremony and instead we have Instagram and Tiktok. This loss of feminine rites of passage has made way for a fabricated and soul-deprived world, and this loss highlights the even bigger theft that is the degradation of the Sacred Feminine.

Body and Soul
Since we are a body and also a mind and soul, it merits understanding that our identity also adapts, grows, and ultimately evolves with each threshold we step through. In order to become whole onto ourselves, we need to find our centre, that soul self within so that we can come into balance. This is where we can focus so that our self energy will be strong against the tides of change and external dis-ease. This is where ritual comes in, as a way to deepen into our devotion to our life.

For women and womb carriers, we have our own unique reproductive codes that mirror seasons. Starting from our mother’s conception and birth, flowing through to our own conception and birth, all the way past our birth, menarche, sexual initiation, and possible birth of our own children, we weave a tapestry of our lives right within our body. Each month offers a rite of passage with the phases of the moon, as well as our menstrual cycle – rites of separation, transition, and integration. Surely these are physical transitions and they are also emotional and spiritual. They are also relational simply because we are relational beings who thrive in connection, and become more fully actualized and initiated when we are witnessed and held.

“Without rituals to make a firm demarcation between the profane and sacred, between what is us and what is not us, we tend to identify with archetypal patterns of being – hero, Father, Mother, etc. We forget that we are individual human beings; we allow ourselves to be inflated by the power of the unconscious and usurp it for our own. And we do this not knowing what we do and that we do it.” ~ Marion Woodman
It is the birth of our soul self and nurturing it that we come back in right relationship with ritual and the sacredness of each day, moving it from mundane and ordinary to divine and universal.

It is our soul seed that waits for us to find her, to nourish her, as it is this deeper connection with ourselves that allows us to move through descent and ultimate initiation. When we take time to listen to our inner knowing and wisdom that resides there, we can be met with our fullest self and move through life with more intention, presence and joy. It is a reclamation of coming home to self. When we drop the ego away and remember that our soft strength is in that seed, the soul guides us. We need to only listen.

Our body experiences this rite of passage so it’s more of a descent than an evolution. Like postpartum, we are not meant to bounce back. If we can reframe developmental stages as initiations, we are not as surprised by the sacrifice that is left on the altar. In this case, it is our former body.

If our body is a map, it is also a temple. I liken my womb to being my oracle so i treat her like an altar. I have learned to bow at her wisdom, and hold reverence for her story, as it is not mine alone. It is also my mother’s and all the mothers who came before me. It is also my children, and those that have yet to come.
Midlife is a threshold to get back on track.

“There is a time in our lives, usually in mid-life, when a woman has to make a decision – possibly the most important psychic decision of her future life – and that is, whether to be bitter or not. Women often come to this in their late thirties or early forties. They are at the point where they are full up to their ears with everything and they’ve “had it” and “the last straw has broken the camel’s back” and they’re “pissed off and pooped out.” Their dreams of their twenties may be lying in a crumple. There may be broken hearts, broken marriages, broken promises.” ~ Clarissa Pinkola Estés

We have forgotten that it is in mid-life that we are meant to retrieve our soul. Human developmental theorists like Carl Jung, Marion Woodman, Rudulf Steiner and Bill Plotkin show us this clearly. They also suggest rites to honour these bookends, or chapters of our life. It can be pilgrimage, quests, or sacred fire and moon dances. It can also look like a fresh hair cut or boudoir photo shoot for your eyes only.

I don’t need more information and content creation from 20 and 30 year olds who know things, surely. I love them for their passion and commitment to living their best life. What i need are elders who have walked a similar path to me already, who know something about life. Who laugh at the ego that gets in the way and instead embody eros without a second thought.

“Sagescence brings with it many gifts. We become more self-focused and motivated to take care of ourselves. We are gifted with the opportunity to heal all the unhealed parts of ourselves.” ~ Jane Hardwicke Collings

Healing is indeed a part of this process. We need to heal what is not repaired so that it stops being the force that moves us through life. That means we have to remove the internalized patriarchal lens about how we have been living our life till now.

It also means needing to heal from our own past experiences and trauma, as well as ones we inherited.

I don’t want to grow bitter or resentful, and fade away quietly, unseen and ignored. We need to shed the roles that keep us nice, polite, oppressed & repressed. (Thanks Sarah Durham Wilson for this phrase).

We need to remember it is our own life we are here to live. We aren’t here to take care of others and not rest or attune to our own pleasure, only to exhaust ourselves and die after a life of stress.

It is never too late to offer yourself a ceremony. Any time we do something with intention and ritual, our soul seed blossoms. This also allows for more healing and completion to happen, especially for the blood rites from our past that were not honoured. Maybe your menarche was not celebrated, or your baby shower was more a party than a women’s circle. It is never too late to complete the initiation that is woven in your womb – they are all connected as one red thread after all.

If we can walk our human journey called life with our eyes wide open, with a consciousness of knowing about where we’re meant to be going, we don’t just find ourselves in mid life stunned about how we got here. We can instead arrive at it with more surefootedness and clarity.

Being in ceremony offers you this commitment. You can’t go wrong when you commit to yourself.