Underbelly Exposure

Anna woke up in a very good mood. We had a slow (it's a rainy Monday, let's not expect too much) but relaxed morning. Not a tear in sight. In fact, she exclaimed that she was glad it was Monday because she gets to read with Mrs. S (the reading specialist). She picked out her outfit and packed her bag and we sat on the stoop together admiring the leaves. We heard the bus on the next street and immediately she started rubbing her eyes, furiously wiping the tears that appeared like a reflex. She chanted, "I'm going to have a good day! I'm going to have a good day!"

I was bewildered. What in the world? She had a good day Friday; she hadn't been anxious this morning. She bravely boarded the bus, waving to me and throwing kisses and "I love you" signs. My heart was close to breaking.

I played on the computer for a little, trying to clear out my head before I settled in to do some writing (for a class). I found myself getting more heavy-hearted. Weird. Shouldn't catching up on friends' facebook posts be enjoyable? Should be, if I took my own destructive thought patterns out of the equation.

Now don't you play like you don't know what I'm talking about when I say that sometimes facebook makes a person feel like they have no friends. You've felt like a social dud with far less engagements than anyone else posting, right? You've never had the impression that your group of girlfriends are in on something you're not?

One of my old friends used to caution me to be careful when talking about my social life in front of other women. "Women always think that everyone is hanging out with everyone else except them," she'd say. I often think that is one of the wisest pieces of advice about friendship that I've ever received. Being sensitive about how my words will make others feel is much smarter than just spouting what makes me feel (or look) good.

Oh, I know that facebook works because we all want to seem like we're the "in" kids. And I am aware that it is beyond dumb to analyze posts, read between the lines, and draw conclusions. But it takes a lot of mental strength to make your brain push your gut reaction's head underwater and keep it there until it drowns.

If I have a hard time doing it, how can I expect my kindergartner to? She has a gut reaction to the school bus coming right now. There's something that's making her feel like she's outside the circle of favor, and whether it's rational or not, it's powerful.

So as usual, easy answers are in short supply. Once again, I must draw on my insufficient reserves of personal strength and try to find something of value to give to my daughter to see her through. I will continue to try to develop the mental discipline to squash my own ridiculous thoughts. I will try to teach her that in focusing on others, the importance of our own little dramas diminish. I will pray.

And I'll still fail. She'll still fail. It will be this way, the exchanging of wins and losses, for the whole of our female lives. Maybe this is what I've neglected to convey to Anna and Molly: it's ok to not have it all under control. There are times you feel invincible, but there are times you feel fragile too. It's the times when we are flipped on our back with the white of our underbelly showing that keep us soft, malleable, and reminded that we are and always will be human. But humans are best suited to living this life, and they do make the best friends for other humans. Because how much do you really relate to superheroes or fake facebook people?