I like to share a “song of the week” on Facebook. I share uplifting or inspiring songs. Songs that are a part of me, my life, my childhood…Last week I shared this one:
P!NK – All I Know So Far (Extended Version)
But this week it hit me a little harder.
This week I shared some pieces of my truth with my husband. You know, the kind that doesn’t come up over a normal dinner conversation. Ones triggered by memories you “forgot” for the sake of your health.
Then, my daughter shared with me some of her struggles.
She got a sweatshirt/sweatpants outfit as a present. She loved it! Blue tie dye…perfectly her, comfortable and fun. But, the night before she was going to wear it to school for the first time she asked me for maybe the 100th time if I thought it looked like PJ’s. She was already so concerned she was going to be made fun of. I told her it didn’t matter what I thought or anyone else. If she loved it, and it made her happy, that’s all that should matter. I told her it wouldn’t matter what she wore, someone, somewhere would have something negative to say about it because if I’m being honest “baby, sometimes, people suck. All we can control is ourselves and how we choose to live. A bully will bully no matter what measures you take to avoid it. So, you decide if you want to wear it. YOU decide if you are going to let someone else’s poor behavior control what you should wear.”
She decided bravely to wear it. It was blue tie dye in the form of sweats after all.
I picked her up from school early for a check up and as we sat in the doctor’s office I asked her how her day went. I asked her if she was glad she wore the new outfit. She told me her friends liked it but others made fun of her. Then she shyly told me one of the boys who made fun of it also ruined it by pushing her into the dirt. She wouldn’t make eye contact but she showed me the dirty knees.
I asked her what happened.
She said he pushed her down and immediately ran away. She chased after him to tell him if he did it again she’d turn him in.
I’m proud of her for standing up for herself. But I muttered the word “Coward” in response.
She asked me what a coward was…
“That boy. He’s a coward.”
I went on to say that a coward is someone who pushes someone from behind. Someone who runs away before they have to face the consequences of their actions. Someone who lashes out at others because they can’t face their own insecurities or imperfections. Someone who preys on someone younger or smaller knowing they are mismatched, knowing they will overpower them.
She deals with this a lot. Too much in my opinion. Sure it makes her stronger but it also breaks her down unnecessarily. I hope she doesn’t let it. I hope she learns to have self confidence and self respect sooner than I did.
Then, when I listened to that song today I followed along with the lyrics. I sang along as I often do (because I’m a nerd who wants to sing it right) and as I sang I cried. I cried thinking of my own experiences. My pieces of truth. I cried in exhausted hope that my 8 year old overcomes, grows and even soars past those people who suck now, before she gets older. Or maybe, stronger than any of us she’ll raise them up in the process of her rising to a graceful greatness. A mother’s hope.
I got the stains out by the way…at least I hope I did…
