WHY IT CAN BE SO VALUABLE TO BE DIFFERENT, EVEN IF IT IS HARD FOR YOU
An open letter to 2 girls who are different, and therefore do not have it easy in life!
My oldest daughter was difficult from birth. Different simple. She had colic after birth which gave her bad stomach aches — anyway she was sick a lot.
She never slept well and peed the bed a lot, she still does sometimes even today at 12. It wasn’t until she was 10 that she stopped wetting the bed every night.
From a young age, she had extreme stubbornness and somehow stood out from the average. You could be proud of that, but standing out unpleasantly is not something that evokes pride in me as a mother.
I blame myself.
I had problems accepting the pregnancy, and problems breastfeeding the little one. Never in my life have I seen something so pure and beautiful as my little newborn daughter was at that time.
It was a gift that I could not believe that I would be entrusted with something so precious.
And yet, there was a persistent reluctance nagging at me that was difficult to suppress….
It took me a while to realize that the solution was not repression, but the recognition and acceptance of my own life — in its entirety, with all the ups, downs, and even cruelties that had happened to me.
My eldest can’t help it, she doesn’t even know anything about it. And yet, I believe, she has also noticed by now that something is wrong with me. She is not allowed to watch me shower, I don’t want her to see me naked.
I have my phases when I’d rather be left alone. She has those as well. By now we know that about each other, and respect that.
Often I observe her, how she has to fight out problems with others again.
Most likely she started it.
I don’t know what it is, she has the magic effect to make others angry. Even people who are usually calm in person. It’s like she brings out the darkest in you.
I myself have accepted it, and see it as a test to face the darkest in me. To be able to see it at all through her is a help for me, even if it is difficult for me.
In the meantime, I almost feel sorry for her. For her big mouth, which she simply can’t keep shut.
But I also recognize that she is not always wrong. She stands up for herself. And those who put themselves out put themselves out.
Often she suffers from herself, I can see it clearly. And today I can smile about it.
It’s hard to deal with oneself, and also very hard to accept and embrace oneself as one is.
The degree of how you are and how you should be is hard to take. Who tells you how to be right?
She can have the hilarity of playing with toddlers, and the seriousness of an 80 year old governess, depending on her mood. She loves her baggy pants and dirty loose t-shirts, while at the same time she puts a lot of emphasis on her hair and wears pearl earrings.
The whole girl is a contradiction in terms.
And that’s exactly why I love her.
She is still just herself, and I hope she stays that way. For me, she can remain a tomboy, a diamond in the rough, whose beauty is very recognizable if you take the time to examine it carefully and look.
With my second daughter this is more and more different. I often hear that both girls are very complicated. I inevitably relate this to myself, as if I have done something wrong.
Maybe I have. If I have, I don’t know what yet.
I am said to have passed on left-handed writing to both of them, because both daughters are also left-handed. The brain works differently in left-handers, they say.
My 12 year old is a loud-mouthed, difficult tomboy.
My 4 year old daughter is autistic.
We noticed it when she threw herself on the floor screaming when she was 1 ½ years old because we cut her bread. She only ever wanted to eat whole slices. The spread had to be completely accurate on the bread, there could be no gaps.
She loved to lay roads, she started doing that when she could just sit. Roads and lines made of building blocks, playing cards, matches… And she loved to sort. Cleaning out, sorting, putting away.
She would get my cut veggies out of the bowl and sort them by color. Red peppers, green beans, white onions.
Most of the time, she doesn’t respond when I speak to her. I know she hears me, but no response follows. She loves flowers more than anything, but she can also tear them off and just crush them.
She can be incredibly sweet with dogs, but she can just as easily torture them on purpose.
When she gets annoyed she immediately reacts aggressively, even if it’s just a pinch or a kick. If she doesn’t like what I say to her, I get short punched, or pinched.
I started early to understand her world a little bit, I can even understand why she does or doesn’t do some things. I am happy every time I manage to understand her world more. Because then it really makes sense to me.
Actually, I don’t see my second daughter as a burden, but as a gift. She helps me to see the world with different eyes, which are important for me. Maybe everyone should see her that way, from a completely different perspective.
When she thinks about something, she looks into space or at what she is thinking about for a long time. Then you can’t talk to her or disturb her, then she’s just not there.
She loves potatoes and hates rice, and when she eats, garlic oil almost always has to be on it, she won’t accept anything else.
She often goes to extremes, and thus brings me to my limits.
Although I am learning more and more through them that my limits are just where I set them. I can go much further than I thought. When I have peace and quiet, nothing upsets me.
After she was born, I firmly resolved to have time for her, and I realize more and more that she needs it.
I don’t know why creation gave me a 3rd daughter on top of that. My second daughter loves her little sister, I didn’t think she would, she’s not jealous. But I no longer have the time for my second, the time she needs.
Maybe I just think that, and in a few years everything will be different, because then she will have a little sister to spend time with?
I don’t know, there are so many questions that I get tired just thinking about it and prefer to just look forward.
I am their mother, but I am not completely responsible for their lives. They have a mind of their own, and I can’t and won’t take that away from them.
I often watch them out of the corner of my eye and have to smile.
I wonder what will become of them.
They are both difficult people, in their own way. But what does difficult mean? They are simply themselves, and I love them for it.
I am sure that there will be other people who will love these two girls. For their stubbornness, their loud laughter, their way of thinking and seeing the world.
Maybe we need such people to show us other ways. Sneaky ways that we ourselves have forgotten because we no longer notice them on our highway of life.
They helped me to appreciate the little things in life more. To emphasize the human again more. The love. The time we get to spend together.
That is not a burden, that is a gift.
Thank you to these girls who suffer from what they are much more than I do!
