I feel as though this TIME article, "How Olivia Rodrigo Became America's Biggest New Pop Star," was written just for me. My girls listen to her new album on repeat, and are intent on making me like it. But I'm emotionally drained by the drama of it all. As my colleague Raisa Bruner puts it, Sour is "a guaranteed one-way ticket to reliving the most potent emotions of adolescence: the all-consuming heartbreak, the envy and insecurity, the sense that everything that's happening is the biggest thing ever."
I've been happily married for a long time, so reliving the intensity of falling in and out of love triggers memories I'd rather forget. But my girls still have all this ahead of them. Though they describe Sour as "a heartbreak album," neither has yet admitted even having a crush on someone, let alone being in love or heartbroken. They sing along to try on the emotions for size.
The impact of the album is oddly outsized, and not just to me. I know this because it merits a TIME article explaining the phenomenon to boomers like me (I'm not technically a boomer, but it hasn't stopped my kids from referring to me that way). If you're wondering what this has to do with parenting, I'll finally cut to the chase: I'm in denial about what lies ahead as my kids approach the age of first kisses, loves, and losses. How do parents find the right balance between validating the intensity of their kids' emotions while pushing the perspective that this, too, shall pass? I'm not sure whether I'll be stifling tears, laughter, or both.
If your kids are of age and drawn to romantic drama, what can you tell me about this aspect of parenting? If it's still ahead of you, are you anxious about it, like me? Write to me at andrea@time.com.
Enjoy the holiday weekend!
Best,
Andrea
MORE STORIES
Eric Carle, beloved author of The Very Hungry Caterpillar,has died at 91.
