Protecting vs Smothering

Being a parent is hard. There are so many ways you could screw up your child, it terrifies me. Take, for instance, my current dilemma. I have pretty strong OCD tendencies and am a fairly detail-oriented person. While these personality traits have been helpful in certain aspects of my life, they have also been detrimental in others. They flip into negative qualities very easily.

So when I see those same traits manifesting in my beautiful child, I’m left wondering what to do. I never ever want her to feel like she isn’t enough or perfect to me just as she is. But at the same time, I want to protect her from a world that does not accept or respect people with these kind of idiosyncrasies. People who are different. People who are not identical to the cookie cutter cut-out that is viewed as “normal”. 

So when I see her mirroring some of the same compulsions I have managed to hide or repress or disguise, I don’t know whether to feel a spurt of pride that she is like me, or fear that she is.  Then I wonder what if perhaps the wonderful combination of traits that is uniquely her isn’t exactly what the world needs. As a mother, I am pulled in two very strong very opposing forces in every decision I make. I want my child to fly, to be the very best version of herself she can possibly be. But opposing that is my need to protect her from the slings and arrows of a world that has already dealt harshly with me.

“She will never go through what I did!” I once swore passionately, overflowing with love for this tiny beautiful creature who had somehow come from me. But I refuse to clip her wings with fear. I won’t destroy her by smothering her with my protection. I want her to be strong. I want her to be confident and self-assured. I want her to live and learn and make mistakes and have towering victories. None of that will happen if I give in to my protective instincts. 

But there is still that little whisper inside. “What if I can save her from even one iota of the pain I have gone through?” Is it not my duty as her mother to protect her? How can I just stand back and do nothing? Should I not be teaching her what the world will and will not accept?

But in trying to give her these tools to protect herself, would I be protecting her or making her feel inadequate? Sometimes we do the most harm in trying to avoid it. Sometimes we cause more pain by trying to guard against it. 

And maybe the world has changed? What if my being in it has indefinably changed my little part of the world? What if all of us in our generation have changed the world simply by being in it. What if the changes we have wrought would have been enough to ensure that her differences are celebrated instead of reviled? It has often been said that our generation places more emphasis on individuality and personal fulfillment. Perhaps this focus will be enough. It will have to be. All I can think to do is, stand here, ready to comfort, to shower her with love and acceptance, if the world has not changed enough. The risk that it hasn’t is not worth the sacrifice of all that she could be.

Pressure cooker

I have at least 2 more posts in progress at the moment, when this came up on my twitter feeds. It struck a chord in me, the thoughts and feelings expressed could have been my own. Even though I am now older and hopefully a little wiser, and as a parent I now understand both sides of the equation, I still have those feelings inside of me.

As a parent, I understand the motivation behind the pressure. As an adult who was once a child feeling the pressure to do well, I accept and appreciate my parents for pushing me to "be the best". I understand why, and even applaud them for getting me to where I am today. I openly acknowledge that I would not be as successful or independent, if it were not for my parents.

But as that child who is now an adult? As that child,  I am still wracked with uncertainty.  As that child,  I am anxious over everything I do. As that child, I live in fear of never doing enough. Never being enough. As that child, these mental blockages have begun to manifest themselves in the adult that I am, as physical ailments.

Before you misunderstand, I am in no way blaming anyone for this. I was the one who took the message "be the best" and internalised it to the degree that it was no longer a positive message. I was the one who took it, combined it with my need for order, structure, balance and perfection, and turned it into something harmful. It was my personality.  My flaw. But knowing this, doesn't take the pain away. Knowing it, does not assuage my need for acceptance. For validation. For being.... enough.

Open Letter about my laziness

"You're lazy. It's ok, I love you anyway."
"He thinks you are lazy."
"I do more than you."
"You get to have breaks in between your duties, like between work and being at home with us, and I don't"
"I think you spend your free time reading or sleeping. That's not actively trying to relax and so it doesnt count. You're just being lazy."

Dear you,

If these words were regularly flung at you, how would you feel and react? Would you feel the need to push yourself even harder to dispel that label, even knowing that the judgement was unfair to begin with? Would you force yourself to keep going, even when you knew you were reaching your limits or even past them?

You wouldn't? Must be just me then. If you know me at all and have followed this blog, you will know that I am constantly battling with my self-esteem and trying to dispel the labels that have been placed on me. One of the side effects of having a self-esteem issue, is that if I am criticized and I can see how the other person reached that conclusion, no matter how incorrect, I will internalize the  label. "He thinks I am lazy? Well I do need more rest than he seems to, therefore I must be lazy."

The problem with this is I then try to prove I am not. I will push myself, and work myself to the bone to prove that I am not lazy. Then, when I collapse from doing this to myself, I simply reconfirm the initial assessment while the things I have done up to that point goes unnoticed. When I have reached that point, where people can suddenly see I am not "fine", that is when there is all this love and care and worry lavished upon me. "You're sick, we need to get you better." "Why are you pushing yourself so hard when I can see you're not well." "You're only going to make yourself worse."

I never know how to respond to this. Me being visibly unwell and pushing myself is no different to me "not looking sick" and pushing myself. The only real difference between the two is visibility. It simply goes unnoticed and gets labelled when I am not visibly unwell. Because that's what was expected. If I look fine, I am expected to be fine. I am expected to have enough energy in my day to do everything you expect from me.And if i take time to attempt to build up those reserves or God Forbid conserve those reserves, then I am simply lazy.

But here's a news flash. "Active relaxing" takes energy too.

Filling the tub, connecting the ozone machine, removing my clothes, getting into the tub, keeping myself from drowning in the tub, getting out of the tub, drying myself ,dressing then drying my hair takes energy. 

Doing yoga takes not only the energy needed while doing it, but drains energy dealing with the pain in my body for the next 3-4 days.

Being sensitive to light and sound means even watching tv or a movie or listening to music, takes energy. Not as much as the first two obviously, but its not a non-issue to me like it is to you.

So if I default to the least energy draining options, I am not being lazy. Reading does for me what computer games seems to do for you. It gives me an escape. While I am reading, I am not crappy old me with the health issues and low self esteem and pain and depression. I am whoever and where-ever the story is. I have a grand adventure or fall in love and live happy ever after. I am beautiful and confident and sexy and whatever else the heroine is. And if she is none of those things, I know that its only a matter of time before she grows and progresses and becomes. Or that the people she encounters will change the way she views herself and reveal that she was always beautiful, if only in their eyes.

And there are times when even reading takes too much. There are times when the most I can allow is to lie in bed or on the couch with my eyes closed.

Because then I know I will have conserved enough energy to ensure I have enough for the things you want from me. Like gyming. Like doing yoga. Like cooking or baking. Like visiting people you have a need to be in contact with.

And also enough energy for the things I need (which ends up taking second place anyway to avoid the laziness label). Like being with the people who matter to me. Like writing. Like trying to inject some form of interest or fun or excitement into a life that has begun to feel pointless.