Today, someone whom I trust and love said things to me that I received as judgment and criticism. We have since totally reconciled, and it turns out that I misunderstood much of what she said and took it the wrong way (shocker!) because of my own insecurities. But I've realized a lot through the experience.
After our initial conversation, I was devastated. I felt completely misunderstood. The conversation was about Douglas among other things. Douglas is a kind, loving gem of a boy who is creative and insightful and inquisitive. He also has boundless energy. And his energy is often expressed through hitting at this point in his 3-year-old life. He's happy, he hits. He's excited, he hits. He's frustrated or mad, he hits. It's actually pretty remarkable to watch. Remarkable in the "I wanna pound my head against a wall, this is so mind-numbingly frustrating" kind of way. It's not all the time - he does find appropriate ways to talk about his emotions a lot of the time, but it's consistent enough to be an issue. We work on it constantly. CONSTANTLY.
The teacher at mom's day out and I talked about it because it's become an issue with him and another little boy. I left feeling alone and insecure. I know the mom of the kid who this seems to happen with the most at school. I feel insecure about what she must think of me. Of Douglas. I worry that she thinks I'm a bad mom. That I might actually be one. I worry that the teacher or this mom or this kid won't see Douglas for who he really is. That they'll judge him on the surface and not look deep enough to see his uniquely, preciously tender heart and loving, kind spirit. I worry that their judgment, the world's judgment, will crush my sweet baby boy.
Then today this phone call happened with this person in my life. A person who I feel should know how hard I'm trying to fix this issue. Who sees me constantly trying to find a way to break through to him, to somehow help his 3-year-old mind to grasp what I'm telling him and to stop expressing himself in physical ways like that, for the love of God. And the things she said made me angry. And so incredibly sad. I felt judged. I cried for a long time. I drove the kids around in the car listening to the same song over and over again from Rent. "Another Day". This is my go-to song when I'm angry or upset. Poor kids. Luckily they like the parts of the song that I fast forward to and belt at the top of my lungs until my voice gets tired and won't scream-sing anymore. At the end of these sessions, I like when I hear Douglas' little voice in the back seat singing with the music, "No day but today."
I did something that Brene Brown says she does when she feels attacked - I acknowledged the feeling by saying to myself "pain, pain, pain, pain." She says it helps to bring the logical, thinking part of the brain to the table instead of just letting the fight or flight part of the brain have a party alone. I noticed how exposed I felt. How raw and vulnerable and hurt and sad and misunderstood. I felt myself harden off against my friend, against the world. I realized then that I was reacting to feeling attacked in a vulnerable state. Every day as a mom involves intense vulnerability. So anytime someone tells us (or even when we just think they're telling us) that we're not doing a good job, it feels like we were attacked without our armor on, naked and exposed. The intensity of my reaction revealed to me how much this whole situation with Douglas was impacting me. How hard it was for me that people in general might be judging me or him and that I couldn't do anything to fix it or change it.
Micah cares so much less about what people think of him than I do. This makes him a much more secure person, of course. I told him tonight how misunderstood I feel, how misunderstood I think Douglas is. How I'm afraid the world will only see one tiny part of him because it's more glaring and in-your-face (literally, with the knuckles of a fist) than all of his other qualities are - all the ones that actually matter. Micah said, "Who CARES what people think of us as parents!? All that matters is that we're doing our best to love them and to know and love the Father." He pointed out to me that if it's not this, it's going to be something else, so I might as well learn now that our kids and their actions are not a reflection on me as a person. That my identity isn't wrapped up in who they are or what choices they make.
Photo by Ashley Derr
Because later our kid might be the one who strikes out every time he's up at bat or the one who talks incessantly in class and gets in trouble. Or the one who's shy and doesn't make friends easily. Or who has autism. Or who gets bullied every day at recess. Or the one who uses words to make others cry. Or the one who will wear nothing but black for years at a time. We can't control our kids. We can't control how the world will judge us for our kids' behavior. All we can do is our best every day to actually see them, because the world probably won't. All we can do is love them and help them to know with every cell of their being that nothing they EVER do could change how much we love them or how much God loves them. No matter what the broken world tells them.
“You are imperfect, you are wired for struggle, but you are worthy of love and belonging.”
― Brené Brown
― Brené Brown
I have this thing about being misunderstood. I always have. I don't care what people think of me for the most part, as long as they get the story right. If I feel like they actually understand me and what I was doing or trying to do or who I am and they don't like me for it, then I know there's nothing I can do about that and I can move on. I mean, it's not ideal, but whatevs. But if I feel like they don't know me, like they're seeing it all wrong, misrepresenting me, I am devastated. And angry. I feel like I can't stop until I've set the record straight. I hate few things more than feeling misunderstood, and judged based upon that misunderstanding.
Tonight, as I was thinking all of this over, this little voice in my head said, "hmm...I wonder Who else was misunderstood." The One who did nothing but love and give of himself, the One whose entire purpose was to free us from ourselves and our own death and darkness. And yet who we still killed. Humiliated and murdered. No one has ever been more misunderstood, and yet he wasted no time trying to set the record straight. After writing this whole post, Micah and I read this Advent Companion book we're reading that's a companion to the Catholic Magnificat. I open it up and the reading for today is entitled "You Can't Please Everybody." Hmm. The scripture it's based on, the one that all Catholics in the world read today says this, in part: "For John came neither eating nor drinking and they said, 'He is possessed by a demon.' The Son of Man came eating and drinking and they said, 'Look, he is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.'" (Matthew 11:16-19)
I can't parent Douglas or Timon based upon what others will think. And with all my heart, I never want to teach them that what others think of them is important. I want them to learn from me and us that the world will judge as it will, based upon whatever snippets of information or mis-information they have. But all we can do is our best. All we can do is play our part, our role - the role that we were created to play. All we can do is be fully ourselves, with all our quirks and flaws and wounds - and our beauty and gifts and uniqueness. Who cares if the world tells me I'm a bad mom if my kid hits other people? Who cares if the world tells him he's a bad kid if he is impulsive or super energetic? All that matters is that we're trying our damndest to be the best version of ourselves, to love each other in the ways that we are uniquely gifted to. I want our kids to know that what matters is who they really are, not who others think or say they are. And that they are fiercely and ceaselessly loved by God the Father. For all of who they are. Even the parts the world says are ugly. For all of who they are.
“Because true belonging only happens when we present our authentic,
imperfect selves to the world, our sense of belonging can never be
greater than our level of self-acceptance.”
―
Brené Brown,
Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead
“Perfectionism is self destructive simply because there's no such thing as perfect. Perfection is an unattainable goal.”
―
Brené Brown,
The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are
Brene says that “Vulnerability is our most accurate measurement of courage." Motherhood takes a ridiculous amount of courage. We should all cut ourselves some slack. Stop worrying about what other people think. Stop being critical of ourselves. "If we can't stand up to the never good enough and who do you think you are? we can't move forward."
“Authenticity is a collection of choices that we have to make
every day. It's about the choice to show up and be real. The choice to
be honest. The choice to let our true selves be seen.”
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