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“I didn’t have a very good day,” her little lips quivered. Her huge caramel-brown eyes fighting with every ounce of her being to hold back the tears. The same eyes who totally gave her away.
This wasn’t like her. She knew it. And I knew it too.
The growing beauty, whose people-pleasing ways force her to hold it all in. Until she arrives back at the sanctity of home-ground. And in the presence of her mama. Who can one-billion percent relate.
I grew this little being. She has my personality through-and-through. Quiet. Reserved. Keeps it all bottled in. Works overtime to be friends with everyone. Empathetic in a way only few can understand. Highly-sensitive to those around her.
Her little heart was broken. She wanted so badly to tell me, but she couldn’t quite muster up the words through the tears. And we couldn’t quite find a moment to ourselves in the middle of evening practices. Until I pulled her into the front seat of the van by me, while everyone else was finally all-at-once occupied. I reminded her that she can tell me absolutely anything. And that holding it in will only make her feel more upset.
“Trust me,” I told her. “I know.”
So, with a shaking, shattered voice, she finally mustered up the courage to share. Her best friend brushed her off at recess. Maybe not a big deal to most. But these two are tight-knit.
And for her to gain the social confidence to make a friendship like this, was such a hurdle for her to jump, in-and-of-itself. She didn’t have her best friend to play with on a day she was really craving their friendship.
And her heart was hurting.
Oh, precious mamas, helping these little souls navigate through bruised friendships in their growing worlds, can be such a heart-wrenching experience.
But, if I have learned anything, most especially from raising four growing girls, it’s this:
They need to feel comfortable talking to you. And sometimes, beautiful souls, it becomes your job to dig deeper. To ask questions. That will prompt a conversation. Even if it feels uncomfortable, vulnerable and hard. But, that’s the thing, sweet mamas, it is our job to get uncomfortable with these darling beings. To navigate that uneasy ground with them. So that they can absorb your words, your insight, your experience. And apply it to their own blooming worlds.
Sweet friends, we talked. And talked. Wiped away tears. Made a list of all the “great” that came from this experience. Including playing with two other friends. And getting her feelings out with one of those sweet kiddos. Something, prior to this year, she would never in-a-million-years do.
She would forever be the listener. Never the talker.
And then, I reminded her of what a good friend this little girl had been to her. We remembered all the sweet things she had done for this beloved babe this year.
And we talked about forgiveness. And that in all friendships, forgiveness will be a necessity. We went through some questions that she could bring up with her favorite playmate the next day. Then, I told her about several of my own hurtful experiences from when I was her age.
Sweet souls, I got specific. And I could see her eyes shift. Looking at me in an entirely new way. “You really know how I feel too, Mommy!” “Yes, little beauty; I sure do.”
Me getting vulnerable with her in that moment? That’s exactly what she needed. To know that she is not alone.
It’s so easy, busy mamas. To toss out the “Don’t worry about it”, and push her to move along with her day. But oh, beautiful souls, how I have learned that is most definitely not the way to go. Because if she is worried about it, it IS important to her. And her? She is most definitely of the utmost importance to you.
Never,ever forget, precious friends…she needs you. Her rock. Her nurturer. Her heartbeat. To guide her through life’s hiccups. To wipe away her tears. And to bring her out of the shadows, and back to a place of sunshine. So one day, she can handle them with a grace, beauty and strength…all her own.
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