I’m watching my girl struggle right now, and it’s hard. So. Damned. Hard.
I want to take her in my arms and rock her and brush back her hair and tell her that it will be all
right. That things will improve, maybe not today or even tomorrow, but they will improve. I want to ease her pain, to wave the magic 'mom-wand' and make everything better.
But there's no such thing as mom-magic at this age, and the internal stuff she’s struggling with isn’t something that can be eased by a kiss or a hug.
Plus she doesn’t like to be hugged anymore.
Also, she doesn’t have any hair to brush back because she shaved it all off.
And omygosh, there are days where I feel like such a parenting failure. :(
And then I remember where I was at her age. Sure I might have been living on my own...
but my rent was three months overdue because my workplace was on strike; and I couldn’t move back home because my parents’ marriage was struggling and there were serious issues at play there; and I had no money for groceries or gas in my car and I had to borrow from my mother;
and all my high school friends were getting married and I had no prospects and I was SO lonely...
So I take a deep breath and remind myself that really, my girl is doing okay. That she will be okay. After seven months of not leaving the house except with me, she’s been out with friends twice in the last month, and has plans again for this weekend. She’s thinking about giving school another try. And she’s willing to try working with someone to help with the anxiety.
Oh, and she looks super cute with her shaved head, too. <3
A generally forward direction for the win again, my friends. Sometimes that really is all we need.