So you want to be a parent… no one prepares parents-to-be for the mental health issues that may come, and most of us aren’t prepared for the evolution of mental health as our children grow.
This has never been easy. It won’t get easier, not talking, not writing, and not facing that THIS is my journey.
So, I’ve touched on it over the years, I’ve blamed, I’ve cried, I’ve connected here and there without actually stating it: This is my journey. Too. This is my journey too.
I recently got a text message from a dear friend I adore more than I could ever share. She was at Children’s hospital with her daughter. It hit home more than I could ever share with her. As I told her how many times we’d heard the same words she was hearing from her daughter and from doctors… as I tried to type all the right words and assure her all would be okay… all I could think about was her. Of course, I worried about her daughter. Of course, I had questions. But, my tears… those were for my friend. The mom.
My own path with my daughter started more than ten years ago. I’ve mourned her over and over, year after year, day after day, sometimes minute by minute.
So this begins my story. My journey as mother and caregiver. It won’t be easy to tell. It’ll take time. We live it every day, so it’ll evolve; I can only hope for better. If there is one mother out there who faces this reality as a new day, know you’re not alone, and many of us have walked this path for years.
THE START OF TRAUMA
If I had the opportunity to stand in front of a school and talk to students, I’d ask them which child they’d like to be. Which child would they like sitting next to them in class? Would they strive to be the coolest? The nerd? The smartest? The tallest? Maybe the shortest. Would they befriend the kid in donated clothing, the quiet kid no one likes, or the kid with allergies who can’t eat anything fun? How about the awkward kid? The one who is different. What about rumors? Do you believe everything you hear? Do you make things up about other people, and do you know why?
None of these questions, and there are many more we could ask, have real answers. No one, not even a child, would admit to being unkind – not to an adult at least. Children won’t admit to fitting the labels posed in the questions.
I might share my story as the mother of a daughter who, in Kindergarten, faced relentless teasing by other kids in her classroom, other five-year-old children, simply because she chose to sit underneath a table in class. What label fit her? The awkward kid? The different kid? The kid who was kind to someone who felt alone? The empathic kid?
She wasn’t the only one under that table. One boy in her class spent much of his time there. It was where he was most comfortable. His label was autism. Misunderstood by classmates, different, and awkward.
My daughter saw him as alone. She also saw him as a friend. And she didn’t want him to be alone under the table. Instead of only making fun of him, as they had at first, the children in the class chose to tease both of the children under the table. Why? Because they didn’t understand why a little boy and a little girl might want to sit and learn under a table.
AND SO IT STARTS
At some point in the year, the teacher encouraged me to ask my daughter to leave her space under the table and sit at the groups of desks like the other children did.
My question to the teacher was, “Is being under the table affecting her learning? Is she distracting or distracted?”
All answers pointed to no. The teacher was concerned that she was being teased. She said my daughter had put herself in a situation to be teased.
Let me break here for a moment. Here’s what went through my Mommy brain: Are we teaching our young girls not to wear ponytails when they jog because some evil man might grab them? Are we suggesting the little black dress at the bar invited unwanted advances – or worse?
HOW CAN WE CHANGE OUR PERCEPTION?
After a long pause and quite possibly some glaring at the teacher, my response was simply, “It’s your classroom. How can you make it a situation of acceptance? This is not just my daughter involved. There’s a little boy sitting under that table, too.”
The year passed rather quickly. She spent some time under the table, and there were days or activities during her day where she would join the rest of the children at the desks grouped together.
She was always teased. She’d created her place with her peers. The culture of intolerance allowed her to stand out without reason while excusing the little boy with a label and a silent nod.
Without mature realization of its effects on her, my daughter’s classroom peers decided she was weird. They didn’t understand her. She was different.
SHE WAS AMAZING
In my eyes, as her mother, she was amazing. She had compassion. Her love had no boundaries. She didn’t mind losing friends by befriending an autistic child. All she cared about was that she had a new friend, and he had someone who cared. Under that table, they celebrated friendship, acceptance, kindness, and an unwavering stance to belong.
WHERE THERE IS GOOD, BAD FOLLOWS
It didn’t end there. The teasing got worse over the years evolving into bullying, worsening at violence. It took time, but years of trying to belong took its toll. On us both.
It took years for me to admit, but I am here now admitting, this was my journey too. So I am here sharing it so other parents know the mourning, the pain, the anger, the anguish, the moments alone – they are… they just are. They are there, they are a part of us, and it’s okay to step up and say this is also my journey. It’s different than my daughter’s journey… but that sweet little girl who sat under the table would do it over and over again for all the years to come because she’s still pretty amazing and also… broken. Aren’t we all a work in progress
?
Next up:
First grade, respecting authority to the point of losing self, and the beginnings of a new reality for us all.
Till then…
Be Well
~Stella
Images courtesy of Canva Pro. None of these images are of me, my daughter, or classmates.