Observing others often teaches us more about ourselves than about the people we are actually watching.
I am at a coffee shop watching a mom beg her daughter to do a specific college program. She is pleading with her to consider her future. Telling her how much everyone loves her and believes in her. They don’t want to see her throw this opportunity away. You can feel her heart and love for her daughter. She talks almost without taking a breath. As if she thinks “If I just talk enough with enough conviction my daughter will see my point and agree with me.“
The daughter is sitting there silently listening.
She interjects every now and then. But is mostly silent – leaning back – just listening (with a “I will sit through this because I respect my mom but it’s not changing my mind” stance.)
I feel for the mom.
I feel for the daughter.
She tries to explain to her mom, “I don’t want it.” and “It’s not a problem if I don’t want it.”
I see the exasperation on her mother’s face. She wants what’s best for her daughter. She keeps trying to explain the benefits. She wants her daughter to think about her future and not just how she feels right now.
Yet her daughter is firm.
I can only imagine (as a mom myself) how frustrated the mom is.
But I am secretly proud of the daughter.
She is holding her own.
She knows what she wants.
She is willing to stand up for what she wants and isn’t going to be “bullied” by her mom into a program she doesn’t want. She doesn’t raise her voice. She is calm and respectful, but firm.
I look at this young woman and pray she always keeps this confidence and self assurance, especially as she grows up and gets married. I hope she always keeps her voice.
I doubt I would feel the same if this was my daughter though.
Because I see myself in the mom.
See I often think I know what’s best for my daughter too. I just want her to…..(insert whatever it is at the moment). I get frustrated when she won’t listen to me. Afterall, I have a fully formed frontal lobe and she doesn’t. I can see the big picture and long term consequences. This is especially true right now as we are in the final months of college searching, applications, acceptances, and scholarships. She actually told me last week she wants to rip my eyelashes out when I mention filling out, yet another, scholarship. (Still not clear what eyelashes have to do with scholarships?)
But today, for the first time, I see it from my daughter’s perspective.
Here’s what I am learning about myself watching this interaction:
I need to shut up.
I need to listen to my daughter.
I need to not think I know best.
I need to trust she knows what’s best for her life and she can figure it out.
And when she mis-steps that’s part of her journey.
My begging, pleading, nagging isn’t going to change her mind.
My listening, understanding and trying to see things from her perspective will serve me more.
I need to ask questions … not make statements.
When she leans back I need to lean back – not lean forward – because this makes her lean back more.
I came to the coffee shop to work.
Who knew I was going to get a life lesson with my coffee.
And I will forever wonder, as they walked out of the shop, if she will do the program or not.
Tara's Voice 