finding words
December 3, 2012 § 2 Comments
On an unexceptional evening, on a nondescript day, a small request lead to a discussion I had not imagined and an experience that reminds me we are always gathering strength and courage for days we cannot predict.
It began when I wasn’t looking. Snuggling beside my daughter, lost to a late night movie, her voice found me in quiet, urgent tones: Mom, I have something I need to tell you. I’m worried about how you will feel when I tell you this and how I will feel when you know.
My little girl for whom language is often a tangled riddle spoke clearly with a hushed urgency. The quiet in her voice contradicted the noise in my head and I felt myself center squarely in the moment. Clicking off the television I turned to my daughter and began with a promise. Making certain I had her full attention I held her eyes and hands pledging, There is nothing you could say that could change how I feel about you. Period.
Her pause was tangible and my nerves frayed by the weight of what rested unspoken. Not wanting to lose the moment I mothered gently, offering: I am going to look away so that you are not worried about my reaction. When you are ready, tell me as much or as little as you wish.
Her words came quickly. My little girl’s words filled the room and I collected my thoughts and emotions while she shared a difficult experience. At eight years old she had found herself trapped in an uncomfortable dilemma with a trusted friend.
Cautiously, aware this is the first in a series of crossroads that will map my daughter’s lifetime, I began my response by thanking her for trusting me and reassuring her that she had made the right choices. Then I briefly celebrated the markers my daughter used to navigate her experience: listening to her inner voice, placing boundaries between herself and harm, seeking someone she trusted to hear her story, and reaching out for support. Despite feeling overwhelmed and helpless, my daughter had exhibited the very strength she was seeking in my confidence.
It has been a week since her sharing and I have honored her confidence debating how and if there is a space in my story that allows me to preserve this moment in my daughter’s story. In the end, I hope this marks a unique moment at a tender age when my daughter discovered the balance between strength in her own abilities and vulnerability in sharing. I hope this will read one day as a letter of love to a little girl who was and is stronger and braver than she feels.
scribblechic 
It’s moments like that that make us glad for the choices we have made.
And, perhaps, builds confidence for the choices that lie ahead.
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