Girl on the outside

I sit here with tears streaming down my cheeks wondering whether you’ve noticed that the girls were mean to you today.

I suspect you have, as you’ve needed dark quiet since we got home, you were pale and withdrawn.  You went into shutdown.

I could see you desperately trying to be one of them.

I know you don’t know how to join in and I feel like I’ve failed you.

My heart breaks that you’ll never truly relax in social situations, it must be so exhausting for you.

I want to wrap you in my arms and make the world a kinder place.

 

I sit here with tears streaming down my cheeks, the mean girls excluding you ignites a flame of angry sadness within me.

I feel fiercely protective and want to rewind the week. I watch you try and I see their subtle rejection.  It’s sly, almost imperceptible and sophisticated beyond your years.

I pray you don’t notice and don’t feel that searing burn that rejection from a friend brings.  The betrayal, the apparent about turn.

But I see you notice something is off.  Your friend who you normally giggle with is cold shouldered and aloof.  She’s trying to impress an older girl and your sweet naivete isn’t cool enough.

Your confusion is encoded in your eyes and body; a language only I can read.

They are slightly taller and walk at a pace just faster than yours, their step in time, you a few feet away, trailing, rushing trying to keep up.

They whisper about secrets from their sleepover the night before, you know nothing about as you’ve only joined today.

They look to each other before deciding what to do next, your opinion irrelevant in their eyes.  They know you’ll fall in and do what they decide.

Their quiet confidence a stark contrast to your permanent internal questioning.  Their certainty that they belong, you the outsider, the visitor, the spare wheel.

I’m sorry my darling girl.  I feel I’ve failed you.  You don’t know how to join in, you don’t know how to be one of them.

We’ve tried to rehearse and practice but you avoid that sort of help from me just now.

I’m powerless to change the inevitable world you’ll face.

I’ve met them throughout my life too; the mean girls, the subtle exclusion that wields power over the one who doesn’t quite ‘get it’.

I wish I could make it easier, I wish I could make it fun.

Instead I say to you – “do ‘you’, be ‘you’ and be proud of who you are.”

Your intentions are pure, your heart is full and your soul is kind.

You are perfect and in the end you will find your tribe.

It won’t be easy and it won’t be quick but whilst you are waiting, be true to you.

Do what you love, be who you are and perfect the best version of you that you can.

It’s ok not to know what others can do naturally.  They don’t know what you can do excellently.

My promise to you is that I will never tire of trying to get people to be kind and compassionate.

I can’t promise to make people be different, as human nature is beyond my control, but if I can persuade people to behave differently then at least some good will have come from all of this.

In the meantime darling, I know you will continue to want to be friends with these people and I know they will confuse you.  I will try and enlighten that confusion but know I am always here to hug away your sadness or to give you quiet, dark space to decompress.

You are safe and I am the bubble around you that will keep you safe.

To the girls who were mean to my daughter I say;

Being a girl is hard and I know you are sweet inside.

I know you still play and giggle but I see you growing and changing.

You test the waters of growing up, dipping a toe into being a bit older

and playing older games that you make up as you go.

My daughter tried.  She can’t keep up, she’s wired differently.

Please be kind, please accept her as she is and please let her go gently when you inevitably move on.

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