Daring Vulnerabilities

I had an exceptionally shaky day.

Let me rephrase that.

I had an exceptionally shaky, vulnerable, un-strong (because I hate the word weak) weekend. Those parenthesis I backspaced twice before I decided to leave it there. What’s a post about vulnerability that doesn’t actually exhibit that. I’m far from perfect when it comes to embracing my vulnerabilities so keep the brackets. Face it. I’m not where I can not be ashamed of despising weakness. Quite the contrary.

However, on days like these, the only person who can recalibrate and rewire me is Brené Brown

My toddler. My only child, started preschool this Monday morning. I spent the previous three days retching, half nauseous half dead, basically terrified while I didn’t show it. My husband is a God about embracing vulnerabilities and thus far the most courageous man I’ve met. He empathises but he will never understand where I stand. Which is okay. Which is where my incredibly introverted self comes into play and I recharge in my solitude. Believe me, it’s a good thing. The last thing I’d want is for someone to be with me through this. I self heal. I don’t do crowds. Or villages. Or support systems. Yet, 24 hours ago I near collapsed and reached out to a friend at 4am. She was up because she had a school admission timeline and her gut was in knots too. If ever another’s misery could’ve been sweeter…

I’m a huge flagbearer of attachment and gentle parenting, I feel that’s the only way to parent and everything that’s doesn’t fall within it basically sucks because it feeds off the potential and mental health of your child. Which isn’t worth a good night’s sleep or time out (and I speak as an introvert) or whatever we wish to achieve. It is neglectful parenting. That’s all.

My child has never been away from me for over a couple of hours and that too with only my husband. This was a first for her. I was retching every few hours over the weekend making a mental note that if she cries, I will throat punch someone and do really bad stuff. Basically. End up in Jail because someone (other than I myself) upsets my child (I mean, I’m a little territorial about this right but that’s okay. Totally normal).

“If someone is harsh with her, I’ll bring her home. School can go <insert expletives>” I mumbled while my husband and I quietly dressed, giving the kiddle a few extra minutes to sleep.

“Why would anyone be harsh to her? They won’t” He responded a little surprised. If anything this man reminds me of the Sunni Male Privilege in Pakistan way more than a Mullah with a blaring speaker. He has this immense belief in everything will be fine and complete blind eye towards any possibility of anyone doing something wrong right until they do. It’s endearing and I draw a lot of courage form it at times.

This morning was one of those

Gave me some strength to make it to school without collapsing. It was raining cats and dogs so the gate picture and the one with the lemon tree couldn’t happen. Annoyed as I was, my baby found her water bottle too heavy and refused to smile for the camera until I figured what it was and took it from her.

I stayed in her class for around 30-40 minutes (within which she actively rejected her teachers and all her classmates. Disqualified from being friends!) before quietly slipping out. I know, I should’ve said good bye. I didn’t.

She did the entire 3 hour session. While I obsessively watched the clock, with every ticking minute (okay fifteen minutes) my heart grew stronger. She is in. She can do it. She is doing this.

All this while I had been self flagellating for trying to hold on to my child by being sick to my stomach at her going to school because that’s what the world tells us. You are inhibiting you’re child’s growth and well being by trying to hold on to her. You’re being selfish, depriving her of school and what she deserves and needs by smothering her, by loving her way too much and obsessing over, well, basically cuddling.

That’s what I have been “receiving” for keeping her from school all this while and my weekend added to that guilt.

Where I was in fact only worried that she might get traumatised. Either by a harsh teacher or circumstances where she’s “dragged away”.

I was having a Pre-Trauma Stress Disorder.

This morning my child and I stood up in the face of adversity as fear of the unknown enveloped us.

We were vulnerable and open and we put our whole selves out there. The day ended with a lot of cuddles, hugs and so much more.

I don’t know how the second day will be like. Or the third. Or this week or the next. She might be great. She might be terrible. What truly matters is, we show up for it. Every day. Whether we lose or win by human standards, our accomplishment lies in showing up.

I for one have stopped killing myself over a mindset that is force fed to us so subliminally that we don’t even realise how deep set these problematic thought processes are.

To the naked eye it is but the proverbial parent child jitters at the inception of preschool. However it is beautiful, it’s raw, it is incredibly nuanced, it is real and unreal in it naturalness (Yes I lifted that from Pete The Cat. Don’t sue me!)

I hope she enjoys school and she has a great time there. A child’s bond with their school is unique.

Let’s hope Sass doesn’t tip it upside down with her shenanigans. Or maybe she should.