a bit of gratitude // day 6
As I approach the milestone of 40, reflection has become my companion, guiding me through the complexities of life and parenting. Age, they say, brings wisdom, but only if we're open to its whispers. My journey through the varying landscapes of pain has been a testament to this wisdom, revealing lessons not just in resilience, but in the power of empathy and vulnerability.
My past self, a young twenty-something in the Army, lived by the mantra "pain is weakness leaving the body." This belief, perhaps a legacy of my hard-working immigrant great-grandparents, or perhaps a product of the Army life itself, propelled me through the rigors of military training and the demands of a career in healthcare. It was a world where resilience wasn't just valued – it was a necessity for survival.
But life has a way of reshaping our beliefs. As a mother, my perspective on pain and strength has evolved. I see it in the quiet moments at bedtime with my son, when his words, "Mommy, my belly hurts," signal not just a physical discomfort but a longing for connection and understanding. It's in these moments that the wisdom of age speaks loudest. The 'suck it up' mentality of my youth pauses, allowing a deeper inquiry into the unspoken emotions behind his words. I want to linger, crawl back in bed with him, and investigate his worries.
The pandemic and the ensuing conversations about mental health have further shifted my views. They've highlighted the importance of balancing strength with self-care, of recognizing when resilience morphs into stoicism that silences our emotional needs.
In raising my boys, I'm keenly aware of this balance. I want to impart the ability to endure and overcome challenges, but equally, I want them to know it's okay to express pain, to seek comfort, and to be vulnerable. No longer should this be seen as a weakness. My goal is to raise emotionally strong individuals who understand that true strength often lies in the courage to be vulnerable.
Reflecting on my journey, I see the moments where the tough girl persona overshadowed my capacity for empathy. I navigated these waters with a mix of pride and confusion, often oscillating between cold efficiency and warm-heartedness. It's a dance many of us know too well.
But here's what I've learned: pain, in all its forms, is not just an adversary to be conquered. It's a teacher, a guide that shows us the depths of our strength and the value of our softness. As I continue to learn from pain, I hope to instill in my children, and perhaps in myself, the understanding that embracing our vulnerabilities is as important as celebrating our resilience.
In the end, the lessons from pain are about balance - between toughness and tenderness, between enduring and feeling. And it's in this balance that we find the true essence of strength.
In my next few posts I’m going to be sharing a bit more about pain and what it has taught me. I’m including a few wonderful resources I’ve collected and used to open up conversations about emotional resilience with children.
