Returning to day to day life, to reality – it is hard no matter the age. Kids don’t have the practice of it, though their reality is social and still fun. Not too much pressure – except school and grades and peers.
Ivy did not wake up happy. On the contrary. Down turned lip, quivering. When I acknowledged her sadness a big tear streamed own her face. She did not want to socialize during breaks. Other kids seem to have friends to go make trouble. She is quiet and is not interested in the shenanigans.
I think this return from the ROM conference is the hardest on her. She had been surrounded by friends, old and young, people she played with and had a lot of freedom to explore and be listened and be creative. She truly blossoms in such contexts and I discover new sides of her in the context of ROM conferences.
In school the reality sets in, being one of many, not enough room to assert herself or be heard or seen. I am all too familiar with this duality of reality.
The brief conversation we had this morning was regarding the fact that even if colleagues seem to have it all together they have fun the are loud and show off, they all long to be seen, to have friends, to be connected. They all express it differently and the appearances may be deceiving.
Then she suddenly had her voice back, not chocked by tears.
I heard somewhere that parents need to acknowledge the kids sadness or worry or fear. If you see it in their eyes, in their posture, don’t brush it off. because you might be afraid it will open a can of worms. I know the adult worry that we don’t have time to deal with everything all at once. As a kids I remeber my mom mentioning when she saw me sad. I didn’t overplay that emotion, I didn’t ask for anything – I just felt seen and that was enough. Today my daughter taught me a lesson – she can be brave and she can be sad at the same time. And I can acknowledge her sadness and remain strong for her and empathetic and she won’t melt as a puddle of snow on a summer day.