Tag: role models

A Ruthless Mirror

Recently the bickering of my kids has been driving me a little demented. Hearing the impatience retorts, and unsympathetic reactions that then spiral into fisticuffs and cruel words, triggers me something rotten. 

So I hear myself saying all sorts of unhelpful snaps: ‘stop!’; ‘be kind!’; ‘there will be consequences if you continue!’. And then they look at me square in the face, deaf to my protests. 

And I know why.

Everything that I accuse them of, I am guilty of myself. Am I patient with their needs and issues? Often not, I am too frequently distracted by the next need of meals, or school runs or crazy head thoughts; I judge their problems of colouring pens or space or choice of game to be of lesser value than my preoccupation and I respond with sighs and frustration. 

Am I kind? Oh yes, lots of the time I am but not when I am pushed and tired, then I can be careless with my words and energy and hurtful with my reactions. But somehow I am expecting my kids to be above that. They ‘should’ be better at controlling those bitchy words age 8 and 6, seeing as I’ve got it handled aged 41. Not! 

Am I generous? With all of the things I have plenty of then I am super generous, but I know I can horde and snuffle away my precious and less abundant treasures, including my time and attention.  

Am I violent? Never. Well never with my fists or feet, but I can carry the violence of energy in my huffs and silences when hurting. Just like them. 

So I recognise this ruthless, searingly honest mirror of my children.  I know that the trigger, the unbearable bickering, is my lesson to walk through. 

I said to my husband yesterday, I have used my will power to overcome so many obstacles in my life, to change patterns and habits that have been destroying me. I have cured myself of eating disorders, quit addictive substances, abandoned my self harming, walked away from abusive relationships, all through the power of my own choice and determination.

Yet this space, where I know that it is ‘I’ who needs to model the change I wish to see. ‘I’ need to offer more patience, kindness and generosity so that my children have that reflection in their mirror of learning. If I am triggered, it is my issue to work through, not theirs to force into submission. 

But I am finding it astoundingly hard. I want to make it their fault, I want to make them wrong for not being able to work through their issues with calm and resolve. I want to abdicate all the responsibility of being their guide because otherwise I have to face the fact that I’ve still got to dig deep for some strength to create change in myself so that my children have a role model I can be proud of. 

I have done well for children and I have conquered many mountains to give them a start in life that they and the world deserve.  And this is the next station on my journey, uncovering the source of my trigger, to free us all for our next destination. 

Role Models

I am sensitive to the role models that pass through my children’s lives. Not for the obvious reasons, I care less about their differing values to mine (as long as they’re not morally corrupt!) in fact I enjoy my children being exposed to different view points and exciting their curiosity and questioning, but I mind greatly about their consistency in our lives.

I know I can’t control where life takes us and friends pass through over the years and that itself is a great lesson for my children, but there is still a place for acknowledging the importance of each role model and their influence.

I speak from a place of loss. I speak from a place of sensitivity to those moments where an adult left my childhood world without word or explanation.

Growing up, the role of father was a gaping hole in my life, my own being emotionally incapable of filling it. Later in life, my early choice of boyfriends certainly reflected my desire for a father figure before therapy and personal development moved me beyond it. But in my childhood itself, certain men stepped forward to offer themselves as a surrogate; family friends, my mother’s boyfriend, uncles, many spoke directly to me, acknowledging the gap and asking permission to represent a father to me.

Every single one left me.

Not a single one remains in my life as a guide or elder. This is not a pity party, I have beautiful support around me now, but at the moments of their leaving, I grieved a loss every time, alone and unacknowledged. Each one just disappeared from my life, sometimes out of loyalty to my mother; sometimes out of separation from my mother; others, I project, because I was too challenging or difficult for their perspective, but for whatever reason they felt no need to say goodbye. And that hurt beyond measure.

So for my children, I ask, when life takes you away from us, when our paths diverge, please just take a moment to say farewell.