Let Me Be
“I don’t want to be you Mama!”
Ouch.
“Okay, okay, I’m not saying I want you to be me. I was just saying that if you wear a cardigan like me, then you can open it when you’re warm and close it when it gets colder later. I really like them; they’re so versatile…”
Tate rolls her eyes and shuts her door, a new practice she’s taken to.
Next time I see her, she’s brushing by me in the bathroom, telling me that she and Claire are going to stop playing soccer at recess - the boys are taking over and not passing to them anyway.
“Well, that’s a shame - you’re stronger than that. Maybe you two want to consider instead bringing it up to them. Have a conversation about equal playing time, and passing and …”
“NO, Mom. It’s fine. I mean, I’ve already told them and they’re actually doing better. Forgot to tell you I scored today, by the way, and Cooper actually gave me the assist! But, we also just realized that the talent show is so soon so we’re committing all of our recess time for the next week to practicing our act so we’ll be ready. Also, I don’t want or need your advice!”
Oh. Humbly, I shrug. That’s a great idea.
There’s a theme here. Tate’s repeating herself, over and over again. Tonight. Every day. The past couple of months. Mostly the same words, sometimes different. But, one message - clear as day.
And yet, why can’t I listen?
At bedtime, I come in to say goodnight and find my girl writing in her journal. She looks up, “Acchhh, writing at night feels good because I can get everything off my chest but it’s so tiring for my hand. Ugggggh.”
“Well, you’re writing so small, I see, and so neatly. You know, in your journal you can be messy, babe. It’s just for you. You don’t need to worry about spelling or being neat or even full sentences. Sometimes I just make lists, especially if I’m tired…”
“I don’t want your edits, mom. Or your ideas. Or to hear how you do it.” Louder, now, frustrated and annoyed, “Please - just let me BE!”
Let me be.
Let me be.
Let me be.
She’s been begging and begging me for this.
Why, then, do I keep coming into her space and engaging, not doing it? I gotta take a look at this. At my own needs and intentions - and figure out how to trust enough to give her more space …
