Ouch.

We all a little like cacti.

One of my kids accused me of toxic positivity via text message. I am pretty sure it was meant to be an insult and hurt my feelings. Score. My feelings were bruised. I could feel myself recoil from the sting of the tiny words on my screen. 

I recovered enough to remind myself that this child, a young adult, is struggling to find their way in the world. I know too that I have lashed out at people I love when I am scared. Thinking back to my twenties, I was so determined to figure things out by myself and so many times felt completely over my head. I made choices and backed myself into corners. I silenced myself instead of asking for help. Honestly, I am not sure who I could have reached out to for help during that time.

I am available to my child if..when they ask for help. 

This toxic positivity accusation got me thinking. I needed to acknowledge that it could be true, at least some part of it. In the text exchange, what I was trying to say to my child is that I believe in you. I have confidence in your ability to figure things out. I also shared that I don’t have advice or answers anymore. I don’t know what the best course of action is as they attempt to build a life, their own life. It is not that I haven’t had thousands of great ideas which I have shared over the years. Most of them met with all the reasons why those were not great ideas.

Upon the suggestion of a therapist, I asked my mom and dad independently why they had not thought to question me about my plans to marry a significantly older man when I was in my early twenties. My parents responded almost identically word for word. Surprising from a couple who divorced when I was 5 years old and never really made sense as a couple, themselves. Their response was, “ We didn’t give it much thought. You always were very clear about what you were doing.”. In the context of my recent text exchange, I can see how my comment, ‘I believe in you’ could be easily taken as a meaningless platitude, even toxic positivity.

My relationship with my child is strained. I am at a loss for words. Worried that anything I say will inflict more pain. Even a simple, I love you has me wondering if it will be received in the spirit it is said. I wish I had a magic mirror that would allow my child to see themselves, to really take in all their strengths, talents, and glorious imperfections, too. I wish I could help them love themself.