My teen is obsessed with Sephora. I've learned to love it, too, for a reason that has nothing to do with makeup.

“Can we go to Sephora?” my daughter asks, with her rather flawless teen reflection in the mirror standing on a blush-stained rug.

Excited that she asked me into her room, I think, “Sephora again?” With no room for more makeup around her cluttered sink, I question the need for any more beauty products.

At the same time, my daughter is asking to spend time with me. “Pick up the towel off the floor and pull up your Oliva {Rodrigo} playlist,” I say, smiling as I walk out the door. “We are leaving in five.” As the true definition of a tomboy, now in my early 50s, my makeup knowledge ends with applying lipstick and mascara — without smudging.

Walking through the aisles of makeup and skincare products, I read the labels, dumbfounded.

Would I apply that before or after serum?

Just as I tell my daughter the coined elementary school phrase, “The power of yet, you can’t do it yet,” when she struggles with things, I have learned to accept that I don’t feel confident applying makeup or following my skincare routine yet.

Not long ago, she flipped those words back on me, the ones I so often tell her, as I struggled to apply eyeshadow while we got ready for a concert together: “Accept that struggle is part of the learning process.” If embracing the suck means more quality time with my daughter, please sign me up over and over again.

Life lessons, especially in the tween and teen years, come fast and often.

Relating to teen interests and experiences is also harder than it used to be in this modern, technology-driven world.

My daughter’s obsession with self-care has given her a chance to teach me a thing or two about what matters to her.

She’s created a space for us to share experiences on a platform she understands and values.

On a recent trip, I fumbled through the 20 or so shades of skin tint with SPF.

Putting up my I-give-up hands, I watched my daughter take my wrist and rub a shade of tint on the back of my hand. “You need something a bit darker,” she said, grabbing a darker shade and taking the lead with the confidence of a well-trained beauty store employee.

Who would have thought the back of your wrist was a good place to match your face foundation?

I’m not raising my hand in the back to say I know the difference between essence and face oil, but ask my daughter, and she’ll exude self-assurance and rattle off the answer with a smile.

Between work and school commitments, friends, and extracurriculars, it’s hard to find time to just hang with my teen.

Besides a before-school Starbucks run, a trip to the beauty store is one date my daughter never says no to.

I know the last time we do our Sunday self-care routine of gossip, masks, and eye patches will come.

Some day she might even want to shop for makeup just with her friends.

For now, I’ll keep singing Olivia at the top of my lungs with her in the car on the way to and from the store.

Even if I always feel like a fish out of water in a beauty store’s sensory overload, I will embrace it all for some one-on-one time with my daughter.

Plus, my skin has never looked better.