Post #2: “The Quiet Cries of Strong Girls” — Learning to Hear What Isn’t Said

Part of the series: Raising Her Right — A Mother’s Journey Through the Pre-Teen Years

We say they’re growing up fast, but what we don’t say enough is: they’re learning to hide even faster.

I’ve seen it in my own daughter. Once an open book, she now closes her journal when I walk into the room. She used to tell me everything — what hurt, what made her proud, what made her doubt herself. Now I get half-smiles and “I’m fine” while she scrolls through a screen, her silence louder than any tantrum she ever had at age four.

And I’ve learned something:

Pre-teens and teens rarely cry the way they used to.

They cry through withdrawal.

Through mood swings.

Through messy rooms and slammed doors.

Through biting sarcasm.

Through the sudden urge to be alone.

They cry through not knowing how to ask for help.

They hold so much inside — trying to balance friendships that are no longer simple, bodies that are changing faster than they can process, and a world that tells them to be confident but not loud, kind but not naive, pretty but not trying too hard.

And underneath it all, there’s often one big question:

“Am I still enough… if I’m not perfect?”

As mothers, we want to fix things. We want to jump in with advice, a solution, a plan. But sometimes, what she needs most isn’t our guidance. It’s our presence.

She needs a space where she can exhale.

Where she can fall apart and still be loved.

Where we don’t say, “Why didn’t you tell me?” — but instead, “I’m here now.”

🧭 What We Can Do (Even When They Pull Away)

• Listen without interrupting. Just listen. Sometimes they’re testing if we’re a safe place to land.

• Validate the small things. To her, a missed invite or awkward text is a big deal.

• Check in without pushing. A note slipped into her school book. A “Hey, no pressure, but I’m here” message.

• Tell her you see her. Not just her achievements — but her efforts, her quiet kindness, her grit.

Because one day, she will talk again. She will come to you — maybe in the middle of folding laundry or in the car at a red light — and those soft, in-between moments will matter most.

💬 From One Mother to Another

We’re not raising girls who never break.

We’re raising girls who know they don’t have to hide the cracks.

We’re raising girls who can feel deeply and keep going.

Girls who know that strength isn’t the absence of pain — it’s the courage to feel it anyway.

And maybe, just maybe… the most powerful thing we can say is:

“You don’t have to be okay to be loved.”

Next in the Series:

Post #3: “Body Talk: How to Nurture Confidence Without Feeding Comparison”

(A practical and heartfelt guide to helping her love the body she’s growing into.)