Holding Them Close and Letting Go

My heart hurts tonight. Last night was Dylan's school picnic. I watched children run off in pairs left and right. I watched my child watch from the outside. There was one little girl who repeatedly said hello to him, but that was it. Tonight he told me no one ever picked him, all year, to be their helper for passing out bday treats. That he doesn't have any best friends at school. This is the only time he has ever lamented about his friends, or lack there of, at school. The first time one of my fears for him, related to kindergarten, was realized. Dylan has a heart of gold and is a truly wonderful, sweet child. I think it might be holding him back a bit.

I want my child to have friends. I want him to make connections in childhood that will last a lifetime. I want him to have what I didn't have and always longed to have. I want him to have the security that comes with having some friends you can count on. Friends who you know have your back.

I have spent the majority of my life with a feeling of not belonging. Always feeling like I am on the outside. Close enough to know what I'm missing, but far enough away that it is out of reach. I know the pain of being excluded, still experience it all the time. And, although that pain taught me a lot, I think I would have turned out just fine with fewer lessons. It's a big reason I am the way I am today. If we have are having friends over and other friends ask what we are doing, they will automatically be invited to join in the fun. I don't ever want anyone to feel excluded or unwanted. I certainly don't want my child to feel that. Ever. I know he will. I know Sasha will, too.

When I was pregnant, one of the few things I loved about the experience is that no matter where I was, my baby was with me. I was protecting my child at all times. No one could get to my baby without going through me. The older they get, the less of a barrier I present. The less I can protect. The more I want to keep them close and never let go. But I have to let go. And that's the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life.

Who I Was

Every now and then a person resurfaces from our past and reminds us of who we were before we knew who we were. Before we went through the self-discovery and self-awareness that comes with moving away from home, going through relationships, getting married and having children.

This happened to me recently. I was contacted by someone from my past who has made me reflect. He's made me reflect on the naive kid I was when I knew him.

I was a motorcycle jacket wearing, concert going, cigarette sneaking 15-year-old girl who so desperately wanted to be older. To move on to what was "important." To move on to college, moving out of mom and dad's house, on to career, to marriage, to family. I was so concerned with what the future might hold I never properly enjoyed the moment.

In true teenage girl fashion, EVERYTHING was the end of the world. I was much weaker then than I would like to admit. I hurt too easily. I took everything to heart. Every friendship was to last forever and every word spoken cut me to my core.

I was the girl who trusted everyone and loved too easily. I was the girl who took longer to get over her first heartbreak than the relationship lasted in the first place. I learned a lot in the process of getting over it and I'm eternally grateful for that learning. I learned that I would not allow anyone to take away my happiness or, rather, allow myself to think it had been taken. I learned that my happiness is in my own hands. I know no one can dictate how I feel except for me.

There are other things I learned the year I knew my old friend. I learned girls are mean and will stab you in the back in a blink of an eye if it suits their needs. I learned that some friendships are only meant to exist for short periods of time.

Since then, I learned that some lessons if life hurt like hell while you are going through them, but are worth it in the end. I've also learned I wouldn't be who I am without having been who I was.