I was helping my 14-year-old daughter to get her sheets on her bed in the few minutes before a friend came over to visit.

I picked up a piece of paper that was stuck between mattress and headboard, that looked like it could be trash, but to be sure, I glanced at its contents.

BIG MISTAKE.

This set off a firestorm of protest. Paper snatched from my hand, quickly wadded and thrown away. Defiant glare.

Truthfully, I didn’t have time to process the contents, and caught only one name, which I am now sworn by the bonds of motherhood never to reveal, for fear of losing all connection to my child forevermore.

This note was a note to herself, she later explained, in which she essentially was reinventing herself and saying what she might be like if she could be someone else and who she might pretend to have as a boyfriend. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but it’s her story and she’s sticking to it.

I did not mean to invade my daughter’s privacy. But this incident did remind me how powerfully teens react to the mere perception of a privacy invasion, even when there is nothing at all to hide. What’s interesting to me, though, is that Beth will tell me who she’s on IM with. She’ll even tell me about the contents of her conversations sometimes.

What’s the dif? “Well, that’s a safety issue, Mom,” she says. “I know you’re just trying to keep me safe.”

Well, amen to that.