Reviving Ophelia - Mary Bray Pipher [49]
ROSEMARY (14)
Gary ran a silk-screening business and Carol gave violin lessons to children after school. They had three children: Rosemary, in eighth grade, and twin boys three years younger, who were stars of their neighborhood soccer team.
Carol and Gary were New Age parents. Gary wore beads and had a ponytail. Carol collected crystals and spent time in the brain wave room at our New Age bookstore. They had raised Rosemary to be her own person. They hadn’t tried to mold her in any way, but rather believed in letting her character unfurl. Gary said, “Our biggest fear was damaging her spirit.”
They tried to model equality in their relationship and to raise their children free of gender role constraints. Rosemary mowed the lawn and the twins did the dishes and set the table. Gary taught Rosemary to pitch and draw. Carol taught her to read tarot cards and to throw the I Ching.
This was a child-centered home, very democratic, with an emphasis on freedom and responsibility rather than conformity and control. The parents didn’t believe in setting many limits for the children. Rather they felt they would learn their own limits through trial and error. They both liked to describe themselves as friends of their kids. They taught Rosemary to stand up for herself and had many stories of her assertiveness with adults and peers.
Carol and Gary spared no expense to offer their children enrichment opportunities. Rosemary took art lessons from the best teacher in town and attended baseball camp every summer. The boys had ball teams, YMCA camps and yoga classes.
At our first appointment Carol and Gary seemed vulnerable and shaken.
Carol said, “I want my daughter back.” She talked about how happy and confident Rosemary had been in elementary school. She’d been a good student and student council president in her sixth-grade year. She was interested in everything and everybody. They had trouble slowing her down enough to get rest and food. She once said to her art teacher, “I’m your best student, aren’t I?”
With puberty she changed. She hated the way her wiry body “turned to dough.” She was still assertive with her parents, even mouthy and aggressive much of the time, but with peers she was quiet and conforming. She worried about pleasing everyone and was devastated by small rejections. Many days she came home in tears because she sat alone at lunch or because someone criticized her looks.
She stopped making good grades because she felt grades didn’t matter. Popularity was all that counted. She obsessed about her weight and her looks. She exercised, dieted and spent hours in front of the mirror.
Suddenly she cared more about being liked by athletes than about being an athlete. She became what her parents called “boy crazy.” They found notes she’d written filled with sexual innuendos. She talked about boys all the time, called boys on the phone and hurled herself at any boy within reach. She was asked to parties by ninth-grade boys who were experimenting with sex and alcohol.
Gary said, “We’re in over our heads with Rosemary. She’s doing stuff now that we thought she’d do in college. We’re not sure that we can protect her.”
Carol said, “I wish we could find a nice safe place and put her there for about six years until she matures.” We all laughed.
“We’re both from small towns,” Carol continued. “When we were Rosie’s age, we didn’t have these kind of temptations. We don’t know what to do.”
Carol handed me a CD they’d found in her room. “Look at what she’s listening to—‘Reckon You Should Shut the Fuck Up and Play Some Music,’ ‘Crackhouse’ and ‘You Suck’ by the Yeastie Girls.”
Gary said, “We had a family rule that anyone who swore put a quarter in the jar, and when it filled we’d all go out to eat. After listening to that CD, we realized that we were in a new ballpark.”
Gary stared at his hands. “We taught her to be assertive and take care of herself, but it seems like she uses all her assertiveness against us. She keeps things stirred