I was excited to have my 13-year-old granddaughter, Lily, stay with us for the summer. She arrived full of energy, just like when she was little. As she explored the house, I offered to unpack her suitcase. But when I opened it, I froze inside were tiny crop tops, barely-there shorts, makeup, perfume, and platform shoes. My heart sank. This wasn’t the Lily I remembered.
I called my daughter Emily immediately, who told me calmly, “All her friends dress like that. It’s harmless.” Still, I couldn’t help but worry. Was Lily growing up too fast? Was I losing touch with who she really was? Over the next few days, I watched closely. Despite the outfits and makeup, Lily still laughed with grandpa, helped in the garden, and read books. She was still the sweet girl I loved.
One afternoon, I sat down with Lily for a heart-to-heart. She admitted she just wanted to fit in and try new things. I shared stories about my rebellious youth, like my go-go boots, and how that was my way of growing up too. We bonded over those moments, and I realized this was just a natural part of growing up exploring identity while still holding on to who you are.
That weekend, we baked apple pie together, laughed over old photo albums, and even giggled about George’s 70s mustache. Lily wore one of my old cardigans over her crop top, reminding me she was still the same kind, curious, and grounded girl. By the end of the summer, I knew the truth: the clothes didn’t define her. She was growing and changing, but at her core, she was still our Lily. All she needed was love, trust, and maybe a slice of pie.