Tonight, I had to channel my inner child psychologist for my
beautiful 9-year old daughter, HRH. She
used to be the happiest little girl on the planet. But lately, growing up is catching up.
When she was younger, I could see the “I’m not good at
anything” mentality was going to rear its ugly head. My sweet, smiley Cheeks n’ Buns (a nickname
assigned by El Jefe on her day of birth) was slow to walk, talk, read… and
everything else. In dance classes, she’s
never really been on the beat. She has
to work hard to earn good grades in school.
She never learns anything instantly.
Things never just come to her or click.
She’s not developmentally delayed or in need of special assistance – she’s
just not a “quick study”.
In the beginning, she was never affected by her last-in-line
status. She didn't care... or even notice. But now, as she gets older, she’s
starting to recognize the self-imposed ranking system; and her
reaction to it is spinning me back to my own youth – and adulthood.
I recall standing in the kitchen as a young girl with my own mother; sobbing
in her arms, crying about feeling left out, being left behind, and not being
good enough. Mom was my rock and she built
me up. Dad showed me how to be a leader
and not take shit from anybody. But,
sometimes, outside forces can be stronger and can silence what our parents and
mentors teach us.
Unfortunately, as I got older I lost sight of what Mom and Dad tried to teach me and I practically sold my soul for
acceptance.
I am scared to death that will happen to HRH.
Tonight, I sat on the bed for an hour and cradled her
emotionally broken frame in my arms as her soul and sense of self poured onto
my shoulders in the form of tears (and snot).
“Mom, I tried out for the play, today, and I’m pretty sure [my best
friend] got the part. She’s always
better than me at everything. She even
always wins at Rock-Paper-Scissors! How
is that even possible?! It’s a game of
chance!!!!”
The audition confession was the cork that opened the flood
gates.
“I’m not good at anything I do! [Another friend] is a better dancer than
me. And I REALLY LOVE dance! I love art but I’m not very good at it. My best friend even corrects my art
work. It’s MY art work! How can it be wrong?? I got 3rd place in the spelling
bee, today. Third place didn't even get
an honorable mention! I always get
picked last to be on teams – and sometimes, I don’t even get picked, at
all! Why am I here? Why aren't I good enough? Why can’t I do anything really good?”
“I think you mean ‘…really WELL’. As in … Why can’t you do anything really well.”
(Nooooo… I didn’t really SAY that! Even I’M not that douchebaggy)
It’s so painful to watch those steady streams of low self esteem streak
down my child’s face. Her voice catching
in her throat… I wanted to cry with her.
We commiserated; I told her she’s not alone. I, too, feel the same way. There’s better bloggers than me. There are fitness instructors better than
me. There are women more beautiful than
me. There are better mothers than
me. There are better bodies than
mine. Better… better… better!!!!
But why do we care?
Why do we compare ourselves to others?
WHY do we define ourselves by how we stack up against our peers?
I don’t have the answer to that. But I think the solution is to look inside rather than outside.
“Baby, who are you? What do you think makes you important to your friends and family?”
“I have nice hair, Mama.”
“Yes. Your hair is exquisite, indeed. But there’s
more. You’re a good friend. You’re giving. You truly care about other people’s
feelings. You pride yourself on being a
good girl. You want people to be
happy. Do you ever recognize those
things in yourself?”
“No. That’s just who
I am. Why would I spend time thinking about that?”
“Exactly. It comes
naturally to you – without even thinking about it. And those are the very things that DO make
you good enough.”
Eventually, the tears dried up and I think I convinced her
that she IS good enough. She – we – are not
the sum of our abilities to one-up our peers.
Instead, we are the ability to hold up our peers.
But I worry that our pep-talk won’t hold. I know that our collective insanity raises the zombie self-doubts that we try to bury. They rise up and feast on our brains until
we’re empty shells, again.
How do I
teach her to stop comparing herself to others when I can’t even practice what I
preach? Who am I trying to be?
I want to be the strong shoulder people can lean on and the
person people can turn to when they need help pushing down the self-doubts. I want to make people laugh – in ANY
situation. I want to BE solace.
When I remind myself of those things - the perfect body;
parental crafting skillz; and badass dance moves no longer matter (but I'm pretty sure I do, in fact, possess badass, Solid Gold dance moves).
Hopefully, I will keep reminding myself… and being… who I want
to be; consequently, I can help her love who she is meant to be - without the need to sell her soul.
-B (Sting)
