Ashley cornered me as I walked back out to the kitchen after changing clothes and said I was to stay away from her and her friends. I glanced over at the multitude of teens, most watching rented movies in a distracted fashion. It was like, who's the parent here? But she didn't want me to chaperon, so Mike grudgingly agreed to pass back and forth through the family room from time to time. It was just like him to organize the party but then decide to leave the work up to me.

All in all, it worked out. Nothing wrong really happened, but the kids got bored with the movies Ashley had rented. They wanted to play hide and seek in the dark in our eucalyptus grove, and someone ended up dunked in our spa. With a mixture of church kids and Ashley’s wild school friends, crowds didn’t seem to get along very well. Half of the kids went home early. And she was in such a bad mood afterwards that Christina almost didn’t spend the night. The next morning we must have found 50 cigarette butts on the driveway. What a party!

At least I had a relatively peaceful evening, and as I sat back in our bedroom trying to keep the small children from intruding on their sister’s time, I had a chance to think about the whole situation. I remembered the last therapy session with Kerri and how I was letting Mike walk all over me. Maybe discovering this made me more open to other ways that I was being subtly influenced. What if something else was going on behind my back besides just snacks and money to be spent on keeping Ashley happy?

The kids had been talking to us about the approach of Halloween and what each was going to wear. I thought Ashley was too old for trick or treating, but she was determined to dress up. I forget now exactly what she planned for a costume, only that it included fishnet stockings. She wanted to buy fishnets, and how she lobbied for them!

First she asked Mike, and he must have said to ask me. So she came to me after school, and I said I’d have to talk to her dad and let her know. However, for once her request seemed sort of reasonable. If she wanted some stockings for dressing up, it wasn’t an issue for me.

I approached Mike later that day, and I mentioned that the fishnets were okay with me. But Mike started protesting that if we bought them for her to wear on Halloween, she’d want to continue to wear them later. He equated fishnet stockings with dressing up like a hooker and felt it was a bad idea. Oh, and by the way, a boy from church named Perry had invited Ashley to homecoming at the high school, and Mike didn’t feel she should go because we couldn’t supervise her closely enough. Okay, whatever. I gave in.

Ashley wanted an immediate answer about the stockings, and she approached Mike a few hours later. I was just walking into the kitchen a few yards from them, but Mike's back was to me, and I suppose my arrival went unnoticed.

"No, Ashley", he told her. "Mom says no."

I wheeled around, unable to believe my ears. Ashley looked across the room at me, her face pure hatred. "That is not true," I told her. "I have no problem with you getting fishnets, but Dad said..." And I went on to recount the entire conversation, including the part about homecoming.

Ashley can be pretty smart when she chooses, and for some reason, she believed me. She turned to confront her father, and a loud argument ensued. But as I half-listened to them fight, I was baffled. Why would Mike deny this? I didn't know; it never even occurred to me that he might be doing it to cause trouble for me.

Our couples therapy with Kerri that week was interesting, in that I told her what had happened with the stockings. But Mike remembered it differently, and the way he recounted the story made it sound like an innocent mistake. My brain wanted to disagree with his version, but "common sense" wouldn’t let me. I mean, why in the world would my husband do something like this intentionally? Just call me naive.

That was sort of the way our last couple of sessions had gone. Kerri spoke to me or to Mike separately, but when she brought us back together, the components weren’t adding up. Everything Mike said about me sounded like negative whining, and I was constantly on the defensive. I hated looking like a horrible mother and, I was so confused. Mike seemed obsessed with Ashley and trying to make her well. I could tell he was fearful, but of what? Of me and healing my relationship with her? But why?

Kerri talked to me at length that afternoon about how I felt towards Mike and Ash. I told her I resented being put in a position in which I was constantly having to defend my decisions without my husband backing me up. I felt that Mike let her get away with too many rewards without any consequences for bad behavior. The other children were jealous and unhappy because they didn't get treats or their father's time the way Ashley did, and they weren't misbehaving, thereby deserving much more than she.

Kerri went on to ask me who made me the most upset, Mike or Ashley. I said it was Mike because, as my husband, it was his duty to back me up, and he should've known better. When questioned who I usually displayed my anger towards, I said it was our daughter.

It suddenly occurred to me where Kerri was leading. Even though her misbehavior and sullen attitude bothered me, it wasn’t Ash I was really angry at. It was Michael. Ashley was a child, and whether she should’ve known better wasn’t important. What was crucial was separating how I felt about the deeds of the adult vs. the deeds of the daughter. My husband was the one who froze me out of the decision-making process, who negated my power within the family and elevated her to my position. It was my inability to stand up to him that caused me to rage against my daughter. An option I chose, but the only safe one available to me. I was re-acting to Ashley because I couldn't safely vent with the person responsible- my husband.