My teen lied about curfew. Punishing her wasn't enough to fix the problem.

My daughter finished her freshman year of high school, and it was not an easy year for either of us.

It brought changes to friendships, homework, and our rules and boundaries, which meant we had to rewrite rules we had already established.

Friends who were once fixtures in our home no longer came over.

It has been a revolving door of new people.

Some stick around while others fade away based on common interests, such as shared classes and sports.

I understood that my kid was simply doing what all kids do when they transition from one phase of life to another, testing the waters by operating outside her comfort zone.

While it is necessary, it is difficult to watch, especially as a parent.

While I knew new freedoms demanded new rules, I’ve always believed that being extremely strict creates issues.

I’ve done my best to walk the line between being overly stern and too permissive.

To get through this milestone, I knew I had to be careful.

I wanted to be understanding, but not a pushover.

I wanted to give her room to grow and make mistakes while also keeping her safe.

Sometimes it seems like an exercise in futility, though.

As a strong student and competitive high school cheerleader, my daughter is a really responsible kid.

We clashed hard this year over one very specific thing: curfew.

While she couldn’t drive, she had made friends with kids who could.

Some had had their licenses for nine months, which meant they could legally drive her all over.

In Maine, where we live, kids can start driver’s ed at 15 and begin the process, including driving with a permit.

I expressed my concerns to my daughter. “Nothing good happens after midnight,” I told her as she argued for a later curfew.

Then I looked at statistics and spoke with other parents, which gave me a bit of leverage in our debates.

I explained that her prefrontal cortex won’t fully develop until she is 25.

She fought back by pointing to her responsibility, her grades, and her near-perfect school attendance.

Her curfew started at 11 p.m. and moved up a bit because the friends who drove had later curfews.

I kept pushing back until we reached a breaking point.

Breaking curfew was not helping her cause, I explained.

It was an ongoing struggle until we finally realized we both had to give a little.

I was willing to extend her curfew a bit, and she had to be completely honest and keep her location on at all times.

She was willing to really hear me about how it wasn’t her I didn’t trust, but the rest of the world — those parts that neither of us could control.

It led to a more in-depth discussion about the real danger that is out there, especially for a young girl.

While I didn’t want to scare my daughter, I wanted to be as truthful as I could and make sure she really understood.

The year is behind us, and we are grateful.

As we move through summer, things have gotten much better for both of us.

We continue to talk to each other while we explore this unfamiliar terrain.

She is honest, even when she thinks she may get in trouble.

That honesty means fewer problems and less worry for me.

The roughest patch, at least regarding curfew, seems to be behind us.

Of course, the teenage years are full of challenges.

I know this after going through a near-decade-long period and coming out the other side with her older sister and brother.

They survived, I reassure myself when things get really tough with my daughter, and that helps me keep perspective.

There are more battles in front of us, I’m sure.

Each time we get stuck, it is another chance to practice compromise, one of the most important skills she can learn as she heads toward adulthood.

Based on what we went through with the curfew battle this year, my daughter will have plenty of chances to practice, and so will I.

That’s the part I’m holding on to: we may not always agree, but we are learning to meet in the middle.