I was recently watching my four year old at dance class, and I noticed she seemed to be distracted. Okay, she’s four so she’s usually distracted, but the past two weeks she seemed even more so than usual.
As I watched her perform her different poses I saw her eyes partially on the instructor, but also watchful of a girl dancing behind her. I watched the young girl stick her tongue out at my daughter, and then I saw my daughter stick her tongue out in return. Sigh.
It was just kids being kids, but I had the memory of an elephant, and I hadn’t forgotten what it was like to be a kid. I hadn’t forgotten how crestfallen my daughter was the previous week when the same little girl had told her that her new, bubblegum leggings were ugly.
I watched my unique little dancer spinning to her own beat, and I remembered what it was like to be different. For a moment I was scared for her, and it wasn’t the first time.
When you become a mother something very unexpected happens. You become like a bodyguard, a bouncer to the doorway of your child’s heart, and you have no qualms about kicking someone to the curb who breaks the rules. You become a momma bear, a tigress, and more protective than an old dog holding a ham bone.
You don’t want anyone being mean or poking fun at your baby. You want them to fit in, and if you have a history of being the odd, unpopular kid then your feelings are multiplied. You don’t want them to suffer as an outcast or a square peg. You want them to be cool, and to be liked. You want them to shine like the brightest star that you know they are.
So sometimes you dress them in the highest fashions. You watch all the right movies, and buy the latest trend doll. You watch closely, oh so closely, and you instruct your child on what to say, and definitely what not to say. If they do something “weird” you might say, “No! Don’t do that!” Just fit in. Fit in to the status quo.
I realized a lot about myself growing up. My Mom cultivated my “uniqueness,” and sometimes I just wanted her to be like the other mothers. I just wanted to be like other kids, and I strove to find my place. It’s like you spend all your adolescence wanting to be one of the cool kids, but then one day you turn thirty, and you go, “Dang. I’m awesome! I’m so glad I wasn’t able to change me.”
I had to come to a place growing up where I realized I was different for a reason. I had to get the fact that God made me square so I could fit just right in the design he had for me. When God has a special calling on your life you have no choice but to break the mold. You have to be weird.
When you look at it this way it’s really a cause for celebration when your little, unique ballerina spins in her own direction. God is calling them to a specific purpose, and who are we to balk.
I hope my kid is the weird one, and while I never wish her the pain of feeling left out, I know from experience how strong she will become in the face of such opposition.
I hope my kid is the weird one for I know then that God has something really special for her life, something so fantastic that it takes a unique character to carry that torch.
Will I still watch like a hawk from my Momma perch of protectiveness? Probably so. But I won’t be worried. Instead I’ll be proud. Proud of my shining star, even if she does project a light all her own. Especially then.
My goal is to spend every day letting my daughter know how special she is in my eyes, and the eyes of her Heavenly Father. It’s my job not to try and change her, but to help her find her own way. I’ll give guidance and support, but never push her into a mold that is the supposed normal. She is who God made her to be, not who I think she should be. And I want her to be proud of that, not ashamed.
As far as what other people think? I’ll help her know it doesn’t matter, and I’ll help her know what does. She’ll learn to love herself, and to embrace her unique qualities just as I do.
She’ll never feel that different is a bad thing from my words or actions, and she’ll know that what the world calls weird God calls wonderful. God calls us wonderful.
Kristen Lothenore says
Love it!!
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you!
Amanda Pilkington says
i am in the same spot with my 5 year old! love love love this!
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thanks so much!
Sandra Nunley says
My 4 year old is very “weird” but that is what makes her her. That is what I love so very much about her. She makes people laugh and doesn’t even try. She doesn’t worry about who likes her or what she looks like. She just wants to have fun. She is a lot of work but she is unique in so many ways.
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Sounds perfect.