I homeschooled my daughter from our sailboat until she was 16. I started to feel guilty that she didn't have a normal childhood.

• Diane Selkirk and her husband homeschooled their daughter while sailing around the world.
• The family stopped in Australia for public school and to help fulfill a list of "ordinary childhood experiences."

Two years into an around-the-world sailing adventure with my husband, our then 10-year-old daughter, and her cat Charlie, we decided it was time for a break. We'd started our journey from Vancouver, Canada, in 2009, when my daughter Maia was seven, embracing boat schooling as we explored the Pacific Coast of Mexico and the islands of the South Pacific.

While Maia appeared to be thriving, a stop in Australia for work presented a good opportunity to assess our relaxed schooling methods — it was primarily centered on math and illustrated essays about each country.

My daughter had her own set of goals. As an avid reader, she'd compiled a list titled "ordinary childhood experiences," noting everything she thought she was missing out on. Despite having swum with giant manta rays, interviewed a Marquesan chief, and participated in a traditional Fijian feast, she'd never attended a school dance, taken a test, or played on a sports team.

As a parent, I got it. Sailing around the world was my husband's and my dream, and we realized early on it wasn't hers. While we had chosen a rich life brimming with opportunity, from retracing the paths of the great navigators to delving into the conservation of giant clams, it came with a unique sense of guilt. My child was bemoaning the fact that she'd never tackled math questions under pressure. But I think what she really feared was that while everyone else was growing up in sync, she was being left behind.

Reassurance for the whole family

Our time in Brisbane, Australia, unfolded amidst the whirlwind of daily life. My daughter's stellar report cards and high test scores demonstrated that our unconventional approach to education hadn't hindered her learning. However, as she checked off experiences from her "ordinary childhood" list, a sense of wistfulness and nostalgia for the extraordinary version she had left behind began to grow.

Even though she'd made a happy transition to high school with a great group of friends, when the time came to leave Australia and continue our voyage, she was excited and ready to go.

Two and a half years of traditional schooling in Australia revealed that Maia flourished when given a bit more structure. So, instead of continuing with our (very) informal curriculum, I helped her select courses from the Cambridge IGCSE program. I was still committed to skipping exams (and grades for that matter), but the text and workbooks came in a wide range of subjects, and met her need for each class to have a clear beginning and end.

Within a few weeks of setting off, she turned 13 and swiftly settled into a pleasant routine of homeschooling, exploring, journaling, and art. By the time we were halfway along the Indonesian archipelago, we thought we had this traveling-with-a-teenager thing nailed. But then the tears came.

Parents can't replace friends

It often surprises people to learn that the world sailing community is filled with families exploring the globe. In a given year, more than 10,000 small boats, crewed by families and individuals, take off on journeys.

Many travel along traditional trade routes, moving with the seasons and staying ahead of storms. For us, this usually meant other "kid boats" were never far away. However, as we sailed and dove through Indoensia's Alor Archipelago, then moved on to Nusa Tenggara where we saw traditional wooden boats under construction, and finally reached Komodo to spot dragons, we didn't encounter a single international boat.

My daughter did spend a couple of fun afternoons hanging out with local kids, but we were moving too fast for friendships to grow. So when Halloween arrived, her loneliness was especially piercing. I wanted to do something special.

Instead of a scary movie night or a Halloween-themed dinner, I planned a spooky wreck dive. It never occurred to me that my newly minted teen would be terrified when I told her that the wreck's large population of menacing lionfish were actually the ghosts of drowned sailors.

An ocean filled with families

Hitting a low point, I questioned our choice. I knew the teen years could be tumultuous, but our kid was genuinely sad. Fortunately, when we reached Malaysia, we connected with half a dozen "teen boats," all headed toward South Africa. Despite our initial plan to sail around Southeast Asia another year, we pivoted. She needed friends her own age.

Interestingly, many of the challenges that make the teen years tough at home can make them great on the road. I watched in awe as my little kid transformed into a capable travel companion who assisted with everything from provisioning to route planning. During an emergency rudder repair, she dispelled the myth that teens can't complete a simple task without repeated reminders and was a calm problem solver who stuck with the job.

With her friendship needs met, she fully immersed in our trip. In the Maldives, she began to research the effects of the climate crisis on the low-lying atolls. In South Africa, she developed an interest in human rights. As our final months flew past, I realized our once reluctant sailing partner was maturing into a confident young woman with clear ideas about her future.

I grew too and began to let go of the guilt. And now, with Maia's childhood and three of the world's oceans behind us, I'm grateful we went against convention. Maia's unique childhood is just part of our story now — and she's grateful her ideas and experiences are out of sync. She discovered being different is a gift.

Got a personal essay about living abroad or parenting that you want to share? Get in touch with the editor: akarplus@businessinsider.com.