My Journey...

“She doesn’t listen.”

“She doesn’t try.”

“She doesn’t care.”

These are the words I heard teachers tell my mom at those dreaded parent-teacher conferences. Over and over again I heard these words.

These thoughts were swirling in my head:

I didn’t listen? I heard what they said I just didn’t understand it. I guess I’m “supposed” to hear AND understand it. I guess there’s something wrong with me.

I didn’t try? Man, I must be really stupid because I know I’m trying and still I don’t understand. There must be something wrong with me.

I didn’t care? I don’t care about what? What does that even mean? What am I “supposed” to do different? Oh, right I’m “supposed” to BE different. There must be something wrong with me.

Oh, yeah one more comment that got added in over the years, “She needs to ask questions if she doesn’t understand.” My thoughts on that:

OH, HELL. NO. My experience with asking questions got me responses like these:

“I just explained that. Why weren’t you listening?”

“How many times do I have to explain it?”

And then there’s this one - “We are already on the next unit. Why didn’t you ask about this SOONER?”

Are you kidding me. It took me that long to work up the courage to ask. Now, that’s not good enough either?

These comments left me feeling humiliated and small. The message I received was I “should” understand it by now and that I did something wrong. So, “Ask questions,” you say. I say, “Questions are not safe to ask.”

By the time I got to high school their language became my internal language. I played out what the adults in my life had been saying about me.

I didn’t listen. It got too painful to listen. Too painful to hear that voice in my head saying, “There must be something wrong with you.” So, I quit listening.

I didn’t try. I couldn’t take take it anymore. Trying and being told I wasn’t caused so much conflict within me. I succumbed to their beliefs that I wasn’t trying and so …… I didn’t try.

I didn’t care. Finally, I just stopped caring. I didn’t feel cared for. No one cared about me, they cared about how I performed.

I re-invented myself from the painfully shy child to an outgoing, life of the party perfectionist and carried this into my adult life. I perfected looking perfect on the outside and buried the pain on the inside. On the outside I looked happy, outgoing and created the image of a perfect family. Regretfully, my need for perfection left my children feeling like - there must be something wrong with me. Unknowingly I handed my children the same fate.

Thank goodness relationship-based practices came into my life and lead me on a journey of self-discovery. I learned to nurture a healthy relationship with myself and then with others. It changed every relationship in my life.

WORDS MATTER. OUR ACTIONS MATTER.

Due to our social conditioning we often go unaware of the messages we are sending to children everyday. We unknowingly hand these hurtful patterns to the next generation.

Relationship-based practices are part of the solution. It is a conscious approach to understanding ourselves, each other and our most vulnerable population, our children.