*Perspective: A way of looking at a situation. I'm a daughter, sister, friend, wife, mom, aunt, and employee. I don't claim to be an expert on anything nor have all the answers to something. Please bear that in mind as you read my perspective. Chances are good it will differ from your own. It's okay to have different ones!
When I held them in my arms just minutes after they were born all those years ago I prayed and wished more for them than what I was. As they grew older and the hub and I had to make decisions and draw boundaries and sometimes swim upstream against culture I prayed and wished more for them than what I was. With each passing year I breathed a sigh of relief that we all grew through the year and incredibly they were already better than what I was. Still I prayed and wished more for them than what I was. We faced the awkward Middle School years and we have not survived them, we have thrived in them. Still I pray and wish more for them than what I was. With one halfway through high school and one on the cusp of high school I dare to hope that they will continue to be more than what I was.
This past year parenting became challenging, scary, hurtful, hard. Both of our girls have experienced some emotional trauma and if you are a parent you know what that does to your own heart.
I experienced my own emotional trauma (who hasn't?) in 6th grade. Sixth grade was a very defining year for me, although I wouldn't realize it until years later. I'll spare you the details but this one: when I got home from school the day that this emotional trauma peaked, I walked into my Mama's bedroom with a tear streaked face and head hung in shame. She picked up her phone, dialed the school, and gave the Principal of the school an earful. The next week I found myself in a counselor's office. My Mama showed me her heart that day when she went "Mama Bear" on my behalf. As I said, that day was very defining. I came away from my sixth grade year believing these messages about myself, "You are worthless", "You are not enough", "You will never be able to get 'it' right", "Your voice doesn't count", "You must be perfect", and other messages along those lines. Awesome right? Well I lived out of those messages for years, it wasn't until the past 10 years that I finally faced them and dealt with them. So when I held my sweet redheads in my arms the day they were born and prayed and wished for them to be more than what I was, it was those messages I was praying out of their lives before they ever had a chance to enter in. My hub and I have made sure that we communicate to our children the very opposite of what I lived with for years.
But sometimes the lies are just a little louder or a little bolder than we anticipate. And until the past year my oldest redhead was strong in spirit, confident of herself, bold in her convictions, unwilling to allow peer pressure to speak into her life. Somewhere along the way the little lies wiggled in until they sounded like her own voice. My heart is broken. I wanted so desperately for my girls to not have to struggle with these kinds of lies. When I hear my oldest say these things that are not true I get angry and I'm devastated. When my hub and I attempt to speak truth into her life and she rolls her eyes in disbelief or withdraws saying something like, "You have to say that because you are my parents" I feel a little part of my heart die. When she allows the lies to convince her that we, her parents, don't believe in her or her potential I am angered and sick to my stomach. I know this battle. I fought this battle for many years before finally finding victory. It is an exhausting and damaging battle. I don't want my child to fight this battle, there will be plenty of others she will have to fight.
With my stomach in knots, my hands clammy, and my heart racing a mile a minute I lay in bed at night and I pray and I wish for her, for both of them, to be more than what I was and am. And with my life experience as part of my guidebook for this adventure called parenting I, with a sinking heart, seek out a counselor she would be willing to talk to and to connect with so that she doesn't have to battle these lies for the next 15 years. I look at her sister, so quirky in all good ways, and wonder what lies are already trying to wiggle in past the truth her Dad and I speak over her. She's already experienced some emotional trauma, very different than her sister's and that come with very different messages that, if believed, will be very damaging to her heart and relationships.
I'm so scared for my girls. My heart does double-time when I think of them being unhappy because of these lies and false messages. The "Mama Bear" in me is clawing from within, anxious to be released and fight for her cubs. But I have to be patient and wise about how I let my "Mama Bear" help. I can't just let her loose, but I can let her have a voice from time to time. But will my sweet redheads know that "Mama Bear" and I fight for them because they are loved and have the potential to be so much more than I ever was or am?
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