Resilience isn’t shiny

I have thought about this a LOT. But I bristle when people tell me that my children are resilient (our survivor and his younger brother). “He will be fine. He won’t remember anything. Kids are so resilient.”  Someone, usually someone who has not walked in these shoes (thank God), would say it to me while L was experiencing a painful procedure or especially rough round of chemo or C was acting out because he missed us and there was no routine. No one ever physically patted me on the arm while saying this, but they might as well have. “Kids are resilient” is like the trauma version of “Bless your heart!”

NO.

Children are NOT resilient. Resilience is looking fear in the face and carrying on anyway. Children are not yet afraid. They do not know how to be resilient. What children are is fearless, in the truest sense of the word. They have no fear. Look into the eyes of a 4 yr old boy about to jump off the top step or soar through the air from the swings. He is fearless. He wants to fly! If he is afraid, it is because we have taught him to be careful, to fear the potential consequences.

Children have an inborn sense of JUSTICE, of fairness, of what is right and true. They know what is right and what is wrong and what is normal. And they will fight to do what is normal. They want to be.kids.

One of L’s nurses is in this #NursesWeek video from Mott. Listen carefully to Nurse Pam at the 7:15 mark:

Kids are kids first. And sick kids second. Or third or fourth. They’re really not interested in being sick. They’re really just here being kids. They want to go to the playroom.

Amen.

Thank you Nurse Pam, and many others at Mott, who really saw our son and our family. You modeled resilience for us. You see people at their most vulnerable and you still care. You held our hands, you let us cry with you. And then you came back the next day and did it again. You are resilient.

This quote was posted in Quiet Revolution, LLC’s Facebook page:

Everyday courage

Everyday courage

To which I responded: “Too often we make resilience shiny. It isn’t. Resilience is dirty. It’s hard work. It’s a choice we make, usually without fanfare or notice from others.” Susan Cain herself liked it. And then she favorited my tweet about it. (Yeah, I was geeking out about it!)

Making resilience shiny puts it on a pedestal and thus harder to achieve. If resilience is perfect and out there, then it is for other people. Don’t do that. Don’t put distance between yourself and resilience. That is a huge disservice to you and your story.

Resilience is: modeled, learned, chosen, and practiced. You don’t do it once and it sticks. It is a constant re-learning and re-choosing. Getting up once doesn’t make you resilient; and failing once or twice doesn’t make you not resilient. Resilience is a lifelong journey, an opportunity to choose growth over defeat, light over darkness, joy over suffering.

So no, my children are not resilient. They are fearless. I will learn that from them. They will learn resilience from me.

Comparison is the thief of joy

I’ve wasted the last 72 hours of myself being all riled up by an article I read on the lovely interwebs. Then of course, my feed blows up with similar junk (it’s scary to me how that happens…like because I work at a university, that university’s advertisements are all over my facebook. Weird). All of these messages are screaming at me that I am not enough. I am not hungry (well, I AM hungry, but not the RIGHT kind), I could save more money on car insurance, PASSION, vocation, career, life hacks to save you two seconds in the morning… Blah, blah, blah!

Then, I saw this image and reposted it on instagram (you know, that other social media thing that needs to be constantly fed to help me perpetuate my “brand”). It’s from @emilymcdowell. Check her out here. Good stuff.

Preach.

Preach.

I also shared said article with my spouse and some friends. The best advice I got FROM THEM was this: take what works for you, discard the rest.

Ahhh. Yes. I know this. In my core, when I am tuned in to MY internal voice, I know this. Advice is only good when someone follows it. So, why was I comparing myself to everyone on the internet, most of whom I don’t know, and then trying to force their advice onto my life? I’ve been comparing myself to:

  • single women
  • single women without children
  • divorced women
  • married women with no kids
  • married women with one kid (one is one, two is ten!)
  • empty-nesters
  • working moms with live-in nannies
  • working moms with stay-at-home partners
  • working moms with cleaning ladies
  • mompreneurs
  • solopreneurs
  • married-preneurs

There is NOTHING wrong with any of these people. But comparing myself, my life, my “career” to theirs makes me feel less than and robs me of my joy. I’m NOT them, so I need to stop idealizing and idolizing their lives. My journey is mine alone.

I took facebook off my phone a long time ago. Finally took twitter off last night, too. If instagram gets catty & pushy like twitter, then that sucker’s next!

I know who I am. I know who my tribe is. I need to fill my feed and my soul with news from THEM.

Things that make me want to quit the internet

Husband shaming. I get it. You’re just trying to be funny. You’re venting. But you chose the man. No one forced you. Your online whining about him says more about you than him. Chances are he’s not the oof that you’re making him out to be and you really love him. But if you’re baiting people with funny headlines just to get clicks and this is all you write, then how do people know what to believe?

Kid shaming. You chose to be a parent. If they’re brats, it’s because you made them that way. Children come out of the womb innocent and pure. Everything they know is learned behavior. How to behave (or not), how to love, how to apologize (or not), how to follow rules (or not), how to act in restaurants (or not). Maybe they’re acting out because they want your time and attention…? Although the fast pace of current society would have us believe that nothing lasts forever, we all know that’s not true. Your blog will live forever. What if your kid sees what you wrote? How will you explain that you threw them under the bus to get some laughs?

People who treat their pets better than their kids. 

People who treat their pets like their kids. No. Just no.

Non-parents who offer parenting advice. Feel free to continue to talk about us behind our backs, but unless you’ve walked a mile in these parenting shoes, please keep your tips to yourself. And suggesting sterilization isn’t cute or funny. It’s crass and offensive.

Woman-on-woman shaming. 

People who write drivel about introverts being shy and awkward. Nope. It’s energy. Introverts are energized by the inner world of thoughts and ideas and find most small talk a waste of time. We’re not shy. We’re not awkward. We’re just different. Please move on.

Life hacks. If it were really that big of a life hack, someone would’ve figured it out already. And why is everything a shortcut? Shit doesn’t just happen. Thou shalt hustle.

Posts telling me how to feel. “Just try to not lose it when this celebrity gets married for the fifth time. You’ll bawl your eyes out!” Um, no I won’t. I’ve bawled my eyes out. It was not over a celebrity nor will it ever be.

National (insert stupid food here) day! If every day is special, then nothing is special. If everything is a crisis then nothing is a crisis. Can we all just chill the hell out?

Ads telling me I need to lose weight.

Ads selling me products to help me lose weight.

Grammatical errors.

Typos. Spellcheck, people. Learn it, know it, use it!

ALL THE CAPS! The exclamation points!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The emojis (didn’t they used to be emoticons?). Enough already.

Trolls.

Racism.

Misogyny.

Whiners. Whoops.