“She doesn’t want to be my friend, Momma” my four year old daughter tells me one afternoon when I pick up her up from school. There are little tears on her face and she takes her forearm and wipes her runny nose. As I buckle her in the car seat, hearing the familiar click, she says again, “Momma, she doesn’t want to be my friend.”
“Why?” I ask, afraid of the answer, wondering if I will be prepared enough to offer her some comfort.
“She wants to be friends with another girl.” My daughter is calming down a bit, surprising me with her coherent answers.
“Honey, it is ok. She didn’t mean it. We should still be friends with everyone.” I look at her in the backseat and sense by the man honking behind me, that the light has turned green.
I turn on CD player in the car, my daughter is humming a tune, and has already forgotten about her classmate. I cannot forget it though. For some reason this conversation lingered with me, because of what she said and how I responded to her. I really didn’t like my response, but I really didn’t have a better way to answer her. It is my responsibility to shield my daughter from sadness, feelings of being left out, because there is a whole life time of those kind of feelings.
It made me think about how children are honest at all times, while as adults we often want to accessorize the truth. My daughter, much to my chagrin, will point out the fat person in the supermarket, the person with too much acne, and make a public announcement in her loudest voice possible. I am cringing inside, hoping, that these people didn’t hear her. I admonish her for saying these things, even though it is the truth.
As adults, we are not prepared to handle a child’s honesty. Children don’t have an internal censor or the concept of hurting other’s feelings which makes the things they say so raw, untouched by manipulation. Along the way, though, they learn that honesty isn’t always rewarded. It happens in subtle ways, like when I tell my own daughter, you should be friends with everyone. The truth is, even if you have the best of intentions, it is still impossible to be friends with everyone. Because, as much as it may hurt, there are people who don’t want to be friends with you, sometimes for no apparent reason. So the little girl in my daughter’s classroom told my daughter the truth, she didn’t want to be her friend. My daughter got over it after a few seconds, but it was me, the adult, who had a hard time coming to terms with the truth.
This is so very true. My 3-year-old often surprises me with his observations on real life. They are often so spot on, it catches me off guard. I agree it’s our job to protect them, shield them from sadness, but at the same time I think it’s our job to provide them with the skills they need to cope with real life. Interestingly my son has really taught me not to sweat the little things. I’m trying to take a page from his book on this one.
It is certainly a delicate balance, but you are right, children having a way of putting things in perspective. As adults, we tend to over analyze. Thanks for stopping by.
I love that children are honest–even when I don’t like what they say 🙂
The raw nature of children’s comments do hurt because you know it is the truth.
You describe so well the many emotions a parent goes through when their child experiences life’s unpleasantness. I can relate so well to your response to your daughter as well as your analyzing your response later. One thing that I have decided for myself is, if I’m not pleased with how I have answered one of my kids questions, I go back and talk with them about it later if I feel it’s important enough. Of course, your daughter may have moved past it and that bringing it up again would be unhelpful. (Btw, I’m not using your daughter’s name in case you’re keeping her name off the blog. I wanted to explain my formality!)
I like your idea of going back and having a discussion with your children at a later time. Thanks for the tip, the privacy, and the comment!
So true. It’s harder for us than it is for them to recover from learning the truth. We grow up and acquire these filters that make us fit the mold imposed upon us in the name of being civilized. And for what? To believe our own lies? To become individuals we no longer recognize? To delude ourselves into thinking that if we don’t face certain unpleasantness, it will go away?
Belinda,
You pose some tough questions. The lines are definitely blurry, but I think it is up to us as individuals to find out what truths we can live with.
I know what you mean, Ru….
I’ll always be her friend…and yours. 🙂