Oh to enjoy the glimpses of the “good times” resurrected from memory banks, while watching my high school daughter and her friends from afar in another room. One of the greatest benefits of my recent divorce is having a home that is complete Estrogen overload. No men roaming the halls, or at least testosterone entered the house sparingly at this point. Girls are free to be girls. Run around the house in pajamas and gossip about all things fashion, shopping, boys, and debate on morals are typical topics here at the P-Household. To glimpse at this group of 15 girls laughing and carrying on is sublime. And to think that five years earlier, about this time of year, I was pulling up to school to find T in tears as a group of girls skulked off. Oh hell no! As I flew out of my SUV with lightening speed and a frown that must have broken through my Botox paralysis, while yelling off into the distance that this was the last day T was going to cry.
My original advice to T was to blow them off. Find some new friends since it was the first year in her new school and everyone was new and searching for a friend group. I told her to tell them she didn’t have to take their mean spiritedness and that she should continue to take up for the down trodden and beam with her joyful sparkle that so many teachers, peers and others continually commented on. She is a truly beautiful soul, very wise beyond her years and intuitive as anyone has ever been.
Days passed and I finally asked her to tell me what she decided to do. She replied with a usual, “Nothing. I ignored what happened and quickly it seemed to be forgotten.” This was a foreign reaction to me, to decide to just drop the subject and avoid the confrontation. Yet, T knew how it would play out. She continued being true to herself. She continued taking up for the less confident girls that would occasionally get ganged up on and she complimented her enemies and kept them close. Sleep overs rarely included her, but she only let it bother her for an hour after school and then she would announce that she was over it and would make the best of her weekend. Slowly, I watched this group of girls, strong leaders and extremely vocal, begin to take note of T and her ways. She was smart, the boys liked her, she sang in a rock band that was invited all over to play, she was stunning with outward beauty and inward kindness, (not that she hasn’t had her moments, please, I’m not naive) but she remained true to herself, regardless of how the girls treated her. And she still longed for their friendship. I couldn’t understand. But, now looking back, I see.
T had lessons to learn and she had many to share with this group of girls, and none of them seemed to even notice what was transpiring slowly. A few years passed and slowly this group became gentler to others in school, less vocal and intimidating and finally they all met in a place of cohesiveness with their entire class, including T. I would say T is now one of the most beloved members of the group. And better yet, she is a friend to most in her school. I have shared with her how I wished I had learned how to be a better friend to my own friends and how I may have lost some friendships due to ego and confrontation. I, too, learned from her. And I have continued learning from the entire group of young women. As I watch them all sitting at a dining table discussing their upcoming Prom and all the topics that go along with Prom, I am forever augmented by retraining myself how to be a better me, a better woman, a better human and a better friend, hopefully. These girls have given to me and I think they find something enriching by knowing me as a person, better, too. My point is, the most glorious part of parenting or nurturing a friendship, is the fact at some point, we gain knowledge we never knew we needed and we may have never been open to receiving previously. Remain open and listen, your kids have something to teach you. And the lessons are often glorious.
On The Way To Happy 