The misty, humid morning matches the climate in my brain…in my heart, too.  Last night was overwhelming, bring many questions, doubts, worries, too many thoughts and feelings to the fore. My child has been targeted, subject of one of the ‘mean’ girls so many of us knew growing up. I’ve struggled to process, protect, let go and hold tight all at the same time.

Girls bullying girls isn’t new but it seems to be increasingly vicious. I grow more nauseous as I read article after article about relational bullying, one in particular by Signe Whitson. One statement keeps ringing in my head…”bullying is disguised as friendship, and friendship is used as a weapon.” Yes, this is exactly what is taking place in this situation. 

I am not ready to analyze the whys. I am not calm enough to be anything other than deeply worried, grasping for the words to empower my girl, help her rise above, feel enough, know she is terrific. In a fleeting moment last night it was clear and this came to me…”And so I will be your superhero in waiting, here to support you against the mean girls who hope to diminish you and make you feel small. They don’t know that you are as big as the sky, as strong as the mountains and have fought battles that would make them cower. I will bear you on my shoulders to see high above them and know that their words mean nothing.” 

This is a painful place. Personal. Visceral. I cannot control the variables that affect her life just like I could not control the awful things that occurred before I became her mother. I have always fought against her past in my head. How to diminish it, removing any relevance, but that is impossible. It is part of her, what shapes her, and unfortunately is the seed of many doubts and inadequacies that rear their ugly heads at times like these. For both of us.

Tomorrow, Mother’s Day, marks my eighth year of motherhood. My kids literally moved in on Mother’s Day in 2006 at two and four years old and I was forever changed. Every year brings new changes for them and me, and we weather them together. We will weather this too, I know, and feel my shoulders relax just a little. My son has rolled with the ebb and flow of bullying for many years and I see how it has shaped him and yet he endures as the bright, funny, beacon of boyhood that I love so much.  I hold them tighter in my heart if not in my arms as they are growing into more independent, strong-willed persons by the day.

I am here, my little big ones. I always will be. Regardless of the cyclone inside of me in this awfulness, I remain with you, open, and yours.

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