Navigating The Heart Of My Daughter

Late Saturday afternoon I walked into the girl’s room to put away some freshly laundered clothes. The sun was shining through the window, drowning the space with beautiful golden light. Bella was up on the top of the bed, she had her head bent over a pad of paper and her eyebrows were furrowed in deep concentration. It isn’t an unusual sight to see her up there. She often seeks alone time away from her siblings and the rest of the world to write, read or draw. If she can’t find refuge in her room, she can be found taking an hour long shower to escape. She is my dreamer so that takes into account for our water bill.

She is also very talented. I am always amazed with the stories and songs she writes, and the art she painstakingly labors over. She is and always has been my joy. I am so proud of her. She is a really good girl with so many amazing qualities. She is kind, helpful, and so loving. She is very responsible and very unorganized. Yep, that wasn’t a typo. The girl is unorganized and that is ok by me.  She is extremely smart, and very beautiful. She loves to be silly and be loud with those she is close to. She is passionate about whatever she is interested in, whether that is dance, music or a new subject at school. I could go on and on, clearly I am crazy about her.

I asked her what she was doing, and as soon as she looked up at me I could see how sad she was.

” I am trying to write a list of things about me so my friends at school don’t think I am lame.”  was her quiet response.

I sat there with her, my heart breaking, and just listened.

She explained how she didn’t think people thought she was smart enough. Talented enough. Pretty enough. Interesting enough.

After some coaxing, I eventually narrowed it down to three girls in her class that she was desperate to be friends with. She believed that if she showed them her list they would change their minds about her. My determined little girl.

I tried to encourage her that she was smart. She was talented and pretty and interesting.

But that wasn’t the issue she said.  She knew all of these things to be true.

The problem was THEY didn’t believe that.

Oh how my thirty year old self resonated deeply with her nine year old self. I ached with her and for her in a way I have never before.

I asked her why it mattered that these three girls didn’t like her, especially when so many other people do.

“It just does Mom. I don’t know why. It just does.”

It just does. It just does. It just does.

How can I explain to her that her value isn’t dependent on what other people think? That she can do everything in her power to convince these girls otherwise and she still may face rejection? That not everyone in the world is going to like her, and that it is ok?

Oh my.

Honestly,  I stumbled over all these words desperate for her to really hear me, and I’m not sure she did.

Navigating her heart, is a lot like navigating mine. It isn’t always easy.

I would love your insight and suggestions on how to encourage my little girl. Perhaps you have a daughter a lot like mine? How did you walk her through this? Or is this just a life lesson she will eventually learn on her own?

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Audio

We can’t be friends.

Moms,

See that picture above?

Thats my life. 90% of the time- that beautiful mess is my life. Despite my best efforts, it is crazy, chaotic and absolutely unorganized.

I like you. I think you are sweet, and fun to hang out with. But let me give it to you straight. If I have to clean for three hours before you come over…

We can’t be friends. We just can’t.

It’s just way too stressful, and trying to keep my home perfectly neat in this stage in life is impossible and overwhelming. I used to be more put together, believe it or not, I am naturally organized ( and a little OCD) . But then my kids became mobile, they ganged up on me, and my life and time were no longer my own.

If you do come over, and I really want you to, I won’t pretend that I have it all together. Simply because I don’t. I believe real, authentic relationships are more important than an organized linen closet. One day those closets will be organized again, but today a four year old wants to play candy land, a seven year old wants to show me his latest paper plane, and my nine year old needs to go to dance.

So, if you can push aside the piles of clothes that need to be folded, sit down with me among my chaos, with a hot cup of coffee, I know we can be good friends. Even better, FOLD those clothes as you share your heart with me, and we will be the best of friends. I promise.

On the flip side, if you are cleaning your house like a mad woman before I come over… for the love, stop doing that! Just stop it! You really don’t have too. I love you, just for you. And I want to get to know you. The real you. I have a feeling that underneath all  those facades us women are SO good at creating- you are such a beautiful person.  You don’t have to try to impress me,  I know you are a good wife, a great mom, and an amazing housekeeper. Besides those crumbs on your counter make me feel at home.

xoxox

 

Update: After a lot of thought ( and courage ) I wanted to try to clarify a few things . Please hear my heart.