Helpless Mommy

My daughter is going through a crisis of the heart. As her mom, I want to rush in and fix everything, to make the boo-boo disappear. It’s what a mom does – she tries to fight off all the monsters under the bed, slays the dragons in the stories that she reads, smooths her hair and makes all the bad stuff go away.

Only this time, I can’t.

I feel like the outsider now, looking in, as I watch her navigate this landscape. I understand that this is her path to walk, but I can’t help feeling like I want to make it all just disappear with the wave of my “mommy-wand”. I don’t like feeling this way, either – I feel totally helpless.

I could offer her some sage advice, but several factors prevent me from doing so. One reason would be because I’d be offering up something that would help ME to feel better about something similar that happened in my distant past, something that I’d like to have the opportunity to “do over”. I’d be living my life through hers, and that would never be fair. This is her journey, and she has to walk her own path, not mine. It would be incredibly selfish of me to even think such a thing. However, as humans, we tend to draw upon old experiences, and offer what we think to be “helpful” advice. Rarely is such advice helpful, mainly because each and every situation is different. Different factors, different people, different emotions are at play here. To substitute what I’m feeling for what she is experiencing is incredibly unfair to everyone involved.

Another factor that prevents me from offering that wonderful “mommy” advice is the fact that my emotions tend to get the better of me. Much like the aforementioned reason, getting overly involved with the situation at hand will only cause me to come from a place of Ego, a place where judgment is prevalent and anger rises rather quickly. Coming from a place of love is a much better option; however, when someone hurts my little girl, I act first and ask questions later. It isn’t a place where I want her to learn to react from; I’d much rather that she learn to respond to situations in her own way, rather than in mine. I’m human, and I’m subject to many creature flaws, but I don’t want her to become a mini Me.

I could offer up a few quips, like, “If I were in your shoes, I’d…” The truth remains that I’m most definitely NOT in her shoes, and therefore, I’m not able to respond. We can empathize with someone and we can empathize with what that person is feeling. However, we cannot, by a longshot, know exactly what their heart is holding within. That is their feeling, and theirs alone. To tell someone that you would do something if you were in their position is like telling your mechanic that he should insert a potato into your carburetor in order to have it run smoothly. I have no idea what she is feeling, aside from what she is telling me. I have no idea what secrets her heart holds, so I cannot possibly offer such flippant counsel about what she should be doing.

Young love is such difficult terrain to tread upon. In the beginning, everything is right with the world – the flowers seem more fragrant, the sky seems bluer, and any and all problems fade in the brightness of new love. It’s no wonder that Springtime is associated with new love – it’s the time of fresh possibilities, new birth, and great dreams for the future. Ah, love.

As love progresses, as we who have walked this path know full well, the infatuation fades away, and we are left with understanding another person, warts and all. If the prospective significant other has qualities that are attractive, we keep them around for a while, and we overlook some of the flaws that they possess – after all, we’re not perfect, either, and they have to take us as we are, too.

It’s during this difficult time of learning about each other that some of the real issues of relationship begin. Trust issues, the biggest hurdle to overcome, rear their head, and some relationships are dashed upon the rocks at the shoreline due to lack thereof. It is a constant struggle to trust another with your heart, for to become trusting means to become more vulnerable. Vulnerability means you could get very hurt if the other person betrays that trust. For real, it is one of the most difficult areas of relationship to navigate. Once mastered, there will be constant tests to that trust. Infidelity is just one of those areas, but there are also other factors that come into play here. Trusting someone to keep their word. Trusting someone to follow through with a plan. Trusting someone to always be there. Trusting that what you have told another in confidence will in fact remain in confidence. Trusting that your significant other isn’t going to spend away your life’s savings. We must all endure trust issues. Having someone keep their end of the bargain to “love, till death do us part” is only the tip of the iceberg.

There are so many wonderful, yet difficult, parts of relationship to experience. And sometimes, we experience the death of relationship – the other person has changed, or we have, and things no longer feel the same. Change and growth are a constant force in Life, but if one person doesn’t grow along with the change, they fall behind. We can either choose to love that person anyway, or leave relationship, in order to move forward and find what it is that we think we’re lacking. We need to understand that we need to have relationship with ourselves first, and whatever person is by our side, well, if they are there for us, great – but if they aren’t, that’s okay, too. This is fodder for another column, so I’ll leave this thought process for now. Suffice it to say that, sometimes, relationships end – sometimes, cleanly, and sometimes, rather messily.

Whether we choose to stay or go, it is always a personal choice. Well-meaning friends can offer counsel, but ultimately, we are the ones who have to make the final decision. This is the part that has become so difficult for me – watching my daughter as she agonizes over what she should do. I want to rush in, I want to fix this! I want to help, and I want to even come to blows with the offending other person. But clearly, that isn’t going to resolve anything. And she certainly isn’t going to learn a thing about herself in the process. All that she’s going to learn is that other people can take care of her problems for her, and that she doesn’t have to do a thing about it. Most definitely the wrong message that I want to send to her.

I want to tell her that there are “other fish in the sea”, that “he isn’t the only boy who loves you”, or any other such drivel that would cause her to end the relationship here and now. However, it isn’t my place to do so. She is clearly an adult and is capable of making her own good choices. It’s time for me to trust her to do so. Besides, if I offer some “well meant advice”, and the relationship takes a turn for the better, I am clearly the one in the wrong, and I would have two people who would dislike me a great deal. Also not the message I want to be sending.

It doesn’t stop my heart from breaking, though, when I look into her wounded eyes. I can see every single emotion there, but my soul encourages me to be silent, to listen, to offer my shoulder, to allow her to make her own choice. And so, I listen, I smooth her hair, I kiss her forehead, I hug her tightly. For the moment, I feel less helpless, like I’m attempting to put a bandage upon the hurt that is causing this crisis within her heart. I let her talk, and in doing so, I pray that she will do what she feels is best, not what anyone else tells her is the correct thing to do. Only she knows – it’s her life, it’s her feeling, these are her fragile emotions.

And as tough as it is, I’m stepping back. She has to do this for herself, choose for herself, feel for herself. Whatever choice is made, I’m going to love her, no matter what.