All Alone...

While growing up, the worst thing I could do to my sister was to not play with her. Sure, she got mad if I called her bubble-butt. She chased me down with unrelenting speed if she knew I had hid one of her toys and was playing dumb. She cried when I bit the hands and feet off her Barbi. But to actually not want to play? That, was a whole new level. I didn't do it vindictively, I wasn't looking to even the score. I simply wanted to do my own thing. I have always been happy in a group or by myself. One of the earliest points in my relationship with my now husband when I knew he was keeper, was after a day spent browsing Powell's Book Store in Portland only to return to my minuscule studio to lay around reading in bliss. He didn't think I was mad at him for not talking. We didn't have to be 'doing' something. We were happily otherwise occupied in the same room and it was OK. Now I look at my children and once again the worst tears come from the dreaded "you're not my friend". Wow. To be cast out from the group, left to wallow in your own sorrow. Noses get punched, stomach's get jumped on, those are tears that dry up relatively quickly. To think that your base, your strength, your support is turning from you? That gets them at the core. Why? I guess I've become acutely aware of what a lack of confidence we have in ourselves. Not trusting that we can actually make ourselves happy and that happiness doesn't come from outside but in. As far as the kids go, building up the confidence that family is forever, no matter what they say to each other in that snapshot of time. That's what family does. With friends it's harder. You can only distribute birthday invites at school if everyone is invited. No hurt feelings. Even though when their birthday comes around they are all to quick to understand they can only invite 5 friends over to spend the night, not 30. They eternally want to be one of the 5. Looking for validation from the number of activities they are involved. Everything is taken personally, not logically. I'm sure I had my share of pity parties. I distinctly remember being a 'mean girl' in middle school, only to have it rather ironically turned around on me. Maybe those are the A-Ha moments that we all need. I've spent a lot of my life as 'the new comer' so I guess I accepted that there were groups already formed and I was happy to be included at all, if I wasn't, I chalked it up to something established long before I entered the picture and there would be other times that I fit in better down the road. I want my kids to have that same confidence. They have two very self-sufficient parents, if it's genetic, they have a fighting chance. Don't get me wrong, I'm not proclaiming that it's all about self. I don't think that "I" in the literal sense can make me happy. My confidence comes from truly believing in that bigger picture, it's not about me. When I make it about me, when I watch that ego take flight, bad things happen. By actually looking outside myself, things never seem quite so dramatic. Kids are giant egos trottin' around in blinking sneakers. Middle school is about the time they hang their flashing kicks up, I guess I'll have to tolerate the tears a few more years.