I feel, or rather know, that I have been doing primarily product reviews and seasonal posts recently. Every so often my blog needs some heart…some emotion…some love.
When I think about my 32 years of life thus far, I am proud of and happy with the decisions I have made because they have brought me here, and ‘here’ is a good place. But then I think about what stopped me from doing some things that if I actually dwelled on them would consume me with some degree of regret, and that’s fear. I’ve learned to say “I just don’t like (insert)” but it probably started out as something I was afraid of…heights, motion, public speaking, dancing in a crowd…fear of conforming, fear of trying out for some sort of team or sport or school play. I responded (or didn’t respond) to so many situations because I was afraid.
Now, like any other people, my parents are human and they have their flaws. I don’t fault them for this, but I know that they taught me their fears, and I now own them. I can see and hear them in the things I tell others. These are things I heard my parents say over and over…or just the manner in which they wear their emotions in different situations.
One thing I learned as a teacher is that children are often capable of teaching us so much more than we are able to teach them. Lydia taught me something new today. She taught me that she isn’t always afraid of the things that scare me. We were at a park with my like-minded mom friends. Some of the children started to climb across this very high plastic mountain-looking structure. Lydia started to follow them and said to me “I can do it, mommy.” I didn’t know if she could. Hell, I wouldn’t attempt it myself. It sorta freaked me out, and part of me wanted to tell her “absolutely no!” Maybe if I had been by myself and without the other moms, I would’ve told her not to. But why? She wasn’t afraid. I was afraid.
So she climbed up one side, got to the top, and was a little afraid. She couldn’t go back down because her friends were behind her. She had to crawl across the top. I ventured part of the way up the other side (fearful, of course, that I would somehow fall backwards). She made it across the center portion without crying or looking more than just a bit afraid. I guided her part of the way back down, then lifted her and brought her down with me. Now, I know this wasn’t a real mountain or anything, but the idea of her crawling across this structure that must’ve been like 8 or 10 feet high was just plain scary for me. But she knew she could do it – and she proved that she could do it, to me, but more importantly, to herself.
This is a reminder that I cannot allow my fears to stop Lydia or Bryce from achieving their goals. I must allow them to take risks. I must stand by their side and encourage them to try their best and believe in themselves…even when I’m a little scared inside.
My brave little girl – I wish I had gotten a better picture, but I was too afraid to stand far back enough to get a better shot.
I truly go through the same feelings with Nev. I am fearful for her sometimes
And reading your blog made me realize that I need to let her concur her fears or lack of! Thanks Carrie!
Exactly! I don’t want her to feel limited by the things that limited me, especially when I was in middle in high school. I was such a wall flower, even though I probably would have loved participating in all sorts of things. I was too afraid of rejection, I suppose. I know we all have fears, but I hope my children learn to challenge them to some degree so they can explore and grow and think for themselves.
I would dread play dates because I was afraid of him having a spat with others. I also was the mom saying be careful, don’t fall. My neighbor is so laid back and her kids are too I often wish I could be more like her.