Well, we all know it right? Mean girls don’t go away just because high school is over. So it really shouldn’t come as a big surprise - but somehow, it always has a way of blindsiding you a bit anyway.
I received some pretty cruel feedback regarding my last column.
And I get it. It was a humorous take on a sensitive subject matter (postpartum depression) that rubbed some people the wrong way. I understand. I’m kind of like the literary version of spicy food, it’s not for everyone.
But here’s what I realized through that experience.
I am so incredibly loved and supported.
I am so loved and supported that I didn’t for one moment second-guess submitting my article - because to me, it was just funny. Just simply a funny way to relay my experience.
That means that I didn’t have any questions or insecurities about my postpartum experience.
Because I am surrounded by loving people that ensured I felt completely normal not having a blissful honeymoon experience adjusting to life with a new baby.
The people that love me have made it okay for me to laugh through my challenges.
They have made it okay for me to feel what I’m feeling - and have made me secure in knowing that these feelings will resolve in their own natural rhythm.
What a beautiful environment to raise a kid. Don’t you think? Surrounded in a space that he will never have to feel shame about his feelings that are less than pleasant.
He can live in a home where all emotional experiences are welcome and are not feared. He has aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends, and parents that are open to him having a myriad of emotions, feelings, and expressions.
And when the time comes that he has to deal with his own instance of mean girls/boys… we’ll be able to confidently take it in stride. Knowing that mean girls are people to have compassion for. That it’s likely they did not have the same gift we did, of growing up somewhere that their intimidating emotions were welcome.
They don’t have the capacity to hold space for us when we fall - and that means we learn to pick ourselves up, brush ourselves off, and become that much stronger for doing so. Strong enough that we can turn around and hold space for the exact people that want to push us down.
So thanks mean girls. Thanks for reminding me of what I have, and what my son has.
P.S I can’t believe I am actually writing this down, but in effort to completely clarify:
I have no, nor have I ever had, intention of actually selling my kid for $100.