Thursday, October 17, 2013

on being a doormat and raising a son

boots: f21 via threadflip; jeggings: wet seal; tee: old navy; flannel: wal mart boy's section 5 years ago

I've said many times is that my biggest fault is that I'm a doormat--people walk all over me.  Running our little business gave me many opportunities to stand up for myself, and I often flopped. Confrontation makes me a red, sweaty, stuttering, crying mess.  My voice quivers and squeaks and my hands shake and I spend the next few days years replaying the conversation in my head and rehearsing what I should have said but didn't.  I've started wondering how this will look in Joony's eyes.  Maybe he hasn't noticed yet, but he will soon.  Some guy backed into my car recently, called me a liar when I politely asked him about it, and instead of standing up for myself and calling the police or taking a picture of his license plate like I should have, I yelled, "You can...you can...go to hell!" then, sobbing, drove off (in a car with a newly-scratched bumper).

I read a lot from women with daughters who talk about body image and confidence and how their daughters are watching them, so they need to love themselves more. I always thought, "Well that's nice, I'll remember that for when I have a daughter," but I'm noticing more and more that Joony copies me.  I think a lot about what he's observing in me and how his little, sharp-as-a-tack brain is processing it all.  I've always assumed that I was lucky since David is a stand-up guy, so Joony can follow his example, and BOOM! perfect, we're done here. I learn more and more every day that that's just not true, though.  He's watching me just as much as he's watching Dave, and the things I do are certainly impacting him.

Maybe his ideas about what it means to be a man will come from David's example, but he's learning how to treat others--women in particular--from the ways I allow myself to be treated.  I'm not talking about being a rude, confrontational you-know-what. I'm talking about standing up for myself when I don't want to do something, or when I'm too busy to say yes, or I'm being treated with less kindness than I deserve.

Anyways, that's been on my mind lately as I've tried (once again) to gather the gumption to be a more fearless, courageous version of myself. It's a process.

1 comment:

  1. Just came across your blog (no idea how, getting lost in blogland does that haha) and I love this post! How men (even tiny men) treat their mom I think is a function of how she lets them treat her. I love that you are so aware - what a good mamma :)
    -Daniella, Seattle, WA

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