If you only read and heed one parenting tip, let it be mine.
It’s not easy for me to talk about what people said and did to me because I was a fat kid. When sharing my story with others, I feel the embarrassment all over again. Shame. Sadness. Pain. So why do I talk about it? For your kids. All kids. I want to spare them what I went through. And I don’t want well-meaning parents to be haunted by life-lasting negative consequences after hurting their kids when all they wanted to do was help.
For as long as I can remember, people have bullied and fat-shamed me. School was a torture chamber. Between classes each day – every day – someone would moo or slam their back up against a wall and suck in their stomach, as if I took up every square inch of space as I walked down the hallways. There was the teacher who weighed everyone in class and wrote the weights on the chalkboard, showing just how different I was from everyone else. After a winning game on a hot day, the elementary school softball coach said loudly, in front of all the players and parents of both teams, that I shouldn’t have a celebratory ice cream because I was fat. I could go on. If I were to add two particularly terrifying and cruel moments from high school and college, then this would need a content and trigger warning.
Photo courtesy of Lisa Fipps
Strangers bullied and fat-shamed me, like the guy who yelled, “You’re disgusting! Have you looked in the mirror lately?” out his car window as he drove by while I was walking into the Emergency Room to say goodbye to a loved one who’d just died. Friends, I use the term loosely, bullied me. And family fat-shamed me, like the uncle who always greeted me with, “Hey, Goodyear Blimp!”
You know what each moment has in common? No one ever made it stop or defended me. Ever. Not even my mother. In fact, my deepest wounds came from words my mother said. The looks she gave me. Her actions.
“When are you going to lose weight, so I don’t have to be ashamed of you?” she asked, time and time again, always while staring at my stomach. She stared at my stomach daily. God, I hated that look. After the first time, I learned to turn my head to keep from seeing the disgust in her eyes.
Hoping to “fix” me, she took me to one doctor after another, demanding bloodwork and a diet that worked.
The worst thing my mom ever said to me? We were watching TV. There was a beach scene with a fat woman. As she took off her cover-up, the camera zoomed in on every roll and every clumpy lump of cellulite. Insert the canned laughter – and then my mom’s laughter as she pointed at the screen and said, “Look at that big ol’ fat thing!”
That’s when I knew: My mother saw me as a thing. Not her child. Not even a human. A thing. When the movie ended, I went to bed, buried my head in my pillow, and cried myself to sleep.
Every day of my life, my mom told me she loved me. She has late-stage Alzheimer’s now. I have her journals. She wrote about how proud of me she was. But her hatred of the fat on my body is what I’ll always remember.
And I’ll remember all the times when she said, “You’d be so pretty – if you just lost weight.”
My babies are a teen and a college student, so clearly they are not babies anymore. Technically, my oldest isn’t even a child anymore, even though she’ll always be my child, and she’ll always be a little bit my baby.
According to a lot of posts I’ve run across on social media, I’ve already burned through a big chunk of parenting real estate.
I’ve used up the 940 Saturdays between my first child’s birth and when she left for college.
I’ve emptied out the jar of 936 pennies representing all the weeks I had to raise the baby who made me a mother in the first place.
I’ve had my turn at the 18 summers between the time when the first person to call me “mom” was born and when she was considered “grown.”
I guess I’m supposed to feel done, somehow. I guess I’m supposed to feel like something has ended or, at the very least, is ending.
But I don’t feel those things. All those weeks and summers and Saturdays, I didn’t feel like I was counting down to anything. I felt like I was counting up to something.
I didn’t feel like I was emptying anything out. I felt like I was filling something up.
I didn’t feel like I was using up anything. I felt like I was storing up something.
I didn’t feel like I was losing. I felt like I was gaining.
Gaining lifelong relationships. Gaining memories I’ll cherish forever. Gaining trust that goes both ways. Gaining time spent together by choice.
Gaining joy, pride, and encouragement given and received.
Gaining friends who knows me better than almost anyone else, but like and love me anyway.
Gaining confidantes I can trust with my heart.
Gaining gratitude for the past and hope for the future.
All those years ago, I didn’t have babies just to have babies. I had them to bring new lives into my world and into the world at large—and to make both those worlds better.
Which they have.
For many years, it was my job to teach and correct and train and support and guide and provide. But the salary for all that teaching, correcting, training, supporting, guiding, and providing is still paying dividends. In some ways, I feel like I just cashed my mom paycheck and am starting to enjoy spending it.
The first 18 years of our children’s lives are only the first act of parenting. If more time on this earth is granted to them and to us, there are second and third and maybe even fourth acts still to come. There are weeks and summers and Saturdays still to accumulate.
Thirteen years ago you made me a mom. And I wish you knew how much I loved that time.
And now you’re taller than I am. How can this be?
I know I’ve told you before that you were an easy baby, that your Daddy and I thought we were the BEST of parents. It’s not until your little sister arrived almost three years later that we realized, NOPE—we just had a really easy kid the first time around.
Oops.
But there are a few things I imagine I haven’t told you about when you were little, when it was just you and me during the long days while your dad was at work that I wish you knew. I look at our life now, as a family of five, and the truth is: I love it. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
But the truth ALSO is: there are days I would give anything to go back in time and live your babyhood over again just one more time. And there are more than a few things I wish you could remember.
I wish you knew how much I held you just because I could. I wish you knew how I drank in the sight of your sweet face, delighted in every smile you gave me, how every time I made you laugh I felt like I’d won the world’s most sought-after prize.
I wish you knew how much joy you brought me every day. I wish you knew how every. single. sound that came out of your mouth delighted me to no end. I wish you could see me staring at you lovingly while you slept, even. These days you hear a lot of “wash your face,” and “do your chore,” from me—I am trying to prepare you to become an adult, all the while longing for your baby days.
So I wish you could remember a time when all you heard from me was “I love you,” and “You make Mommy so happy.” I wish you could remember the million and one terms of endearment that rolled off my lips for you every day. You were my sidekick, sweetheart, and we were a good team.
I wish you could see how proud I was to push you in a cart through the grocery store or watch you toddle around the park. I wish you knew how much I LOVED taking you with me everywhere I went. You were a joy to tote around, my dear. And we had so much fun!
But we had fun at home, too. I wish you could see us delight together in reading “Hungry Caterpillar” 15 times a day. I wish we could go back in time and sing a duet of the Mr. Rogers theme song or “Who Are the People In Your Neighborhood” one more time. I wish we could do your favorite Thomas the Tank Engine puzzle again and go crazy catching bubbles on the front porch.
I wish you knew how much FUN we had together. Oh, Kid. We had SO much fun. Being your mom, the mom to JUST you, was truthfully the most carefree time of my parenting life. I wish you knew that.
You idolize your dad these days and that’s as it should be. He is the best of men. But I wish you knew how much you once looked up to me. You used to want to wear my shoes and share my makeup—not because you wanted to be a girl, but because you wanted to be like MOM. I hope there is still see something in me that you might want to aspire to.
I wish you knew what our life was like in that simpler time, babe. When all my attention was just focused on you and Dad, instead of being divided up between two additional kids. As the oldest and most independent now, you don’t get a TON of my time. But once, you had it all…and you even liked it, I swear. I wish you knew what a beautiful time that was.
So I’m telling you. And maybe, even though you can’t remember it, maybe you’ll see it in my eyes, and be able to feel it a little. I sure hope you can.
I love you, Son. More than you will ever know until you have a child of your own.
I’ve heard several teachers say something to the effect of “my students teach me more than I teach them,” and while I’m certain that is true on some level, I must say I’m thankful to have learned a ton from some really great teachers in my life. Nevertheless, we can all learn from the innocence and “tell it like it is” instincts of a child, and the viral post I’m about to share with you is a perfect example of that.
Earlier this week I stumbled upon a photo of a crushed plastic cup that had been posted to Facebook. A friend of mine shared it, which was why it was in my feed, but the original post, which is now a viral post, is by teacher Courtney Mccrea. The photo caught by eye because a picture of a crushed plastic cup seemed rather random, but after reading Mccrea’s explanation, I’ll certainly never forget this cup, or the lesson she’s passing on from a student. Under the photo of the crushed cup, Mccrea said:
“Today, one of my students called another student a name. He immediately said sorry. Instead of the other student saying anything, she walked grabbed a cup and came back to the table. She smooshed the cup and said “sorry”. I could tell the other child was confused. She then said “I hurt the cup, but I said sorry. Did that fix it? No, so you saying sorry doesn’t fix what you said. Just don’t say or do hurtful things.”
I feel like I’ve learned not just one or two, but three lessons from this.
When someone hurts you, you don’t have to react.
2. Sorry doesn’t fix things and I’m not sure why we think it does.
3. Kids listen to us more than we think.
WHEW! What a powerful illustration from a child! You’ve got to wonder how she came up with that one, because it is SPOT stinkin’ on and really made me think. Obviously, when we mess up and hurt someone, we should say that we’re sorry and seek forgiveness. But the damage is still done and requires healing. How much more amazing would it be if we had the self-control and discipline not to hurt others in the first place? I know we’re all human and mess up, but Mccrea’s viral post has me more determined than ever to watch my tongue and think before I speak.
There are few things more humbling and heartbreaking than my two and a half year old looking sadly at me and saying, “You’re not being very kind to me, mommy” when my frustration rises and my tone shifts into a yell.
Photo courtesy of Lindsey Maestas
I’ve only heard it once. But that comment was enough to shift something huge in my heart. A piece of me is thankful that he knows and understands what kind is. But the other piece of me knows how important it is to be the example of kind that he needs for me to be.
And I know very well that that example doesn’t begin with a yelling mom or expressing my anger without restraint.
I recently watched the movie Wonder and it left me with a deep longing in my heart for my boys to love others with intention. I don’t ever want my sons to be bullies; I want them to be the ones who protect kids from bullies.
I pray for my boys to be the kids who go out of their way to sit with the other kid who eats lunch alone at school.
I pray that they’ll forgive quickly when they are wronged.
I pray that they will be inclusive and impartial with all people, no matter what shape, size or color they may be.
But all of this? It begins with me.
Kindness begins with the parents. We spend so much time with them, don’t we? For most of them, we are their entire world. They watch us and see us in our day-to-day lives.
They see how we speak to our spouses. They hear when we have sharp tongues, irritated tones or passive-aggressive comments.
They see how we react to bad drivers and hear the frustration (and sometimes pure anger) that flows from our mouths.
They see if, and how, we respond with love to those who are hurting or in need.
They see our lack of self-control as we yell at the top of our lungs when they have a temper tantrum or act out in disobedience.
We think it slips past them.
We assume that they aren’t really paying attention.
But they are very likely soaking in every word.
By our actions as parents, we’re showing our kids who to be every time they step outside of our front door.
Those words spoken by my son, calling me out on my lack of kindness, led me to conviction and repentance faster than I could blink. When we fail at being kind, we have to be willing to acknowledge it. We have to set the example. We must humble ourselves, even before our kids.
“…do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.” Eph. 6:4
So in that moment when he reminded me of my lack of kindness, I got on my son’s level. I looked him in the eyes as I always try and do and I gently asked him to look back at me.
Photo courtesy of Lindsey Maestas
I reminded him of how much I loved him and I asked him to forgive me. I apologized for my frustration and my tone of voice.
I explained to him that, while discipline is necessary for growth and correction, the way that I approached that discipline was not gentle, it was not loving and it was not helpful.
Our kids rarely hear our words when we raise our voices. They often only hear the way that we say them. Yelling tends to bring sadness and frustration instead of growth.
So, despite how challenging it may be at times, I will continue to ask for his forgiveness – every single time I yell or react poorly.
It reminds both him and I that when we make mistakes, we are not defeated. God’s grace is always greater than our sin and we have the opportunity to begin again.
What if you made it an ultimate goal every morning to try and respond instead of react when it comes to discipline?
How I Stopped Being a Yelling Mom
Here is a practical trick that might help you as it has helped me:
A few months ago, I read about an idea that I have been implementing in my home every day. It reminds me to respect my toddler, just as I would have him respect me.
Each morning, I wake up and put five hair ties around my left wrist.
Photo courtesy of Lindsey Maestas
Any time that I use a tone, word or action toward my son that I know is disrespectful or unfruitful, I move one hair tie to my right wrist.
In order to move the right hair tie back to the left side, I require myself to say or do five different kind and encouraging words or actions to counteract the unkind or disrespectful words that I spoke against my son. The goal is to have all hair ties on my left wrist by the time Sutton goes to bed.
I have had countless, frustrating days where I move all hair ties to my right wrist and even need a few more because it’s just that kind of day.
But as time has progressed, it happens less and less often because it’s a tangible reminder of how I want to treat my kids.
And even more so, it’s a reminder of how I want my kids to treat others.
It has become extremely important to me that I wait until I am ready and calm before I respond to disobedience.
I am not even close to perfect at this, but I am doing my best.
When Sutton disobeys or acts disrespectful, I go to him and get on his level. I look him in the eye, explain calmly why he is in trouble and ask if he understands.
I evaluate whether or not he was aware of my expectations of him and if those expectations had been previously discussed prior to the current situation. If the answer is yes to both, I discipline him in the way that I deem appropriate.
I then give him a kiss, squeeze him tightly in a hug and tell him how important he is to God and to me. I remind him that I correct him because I love him deeply, just as God corrects me.
“She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.” Prov. 31:26.
Being a mom tests my selflessness and patience more than I could have ever imagined. God corrects me through the process of motherhood, just as I correct my kids.
And similar to God’s correction, correction from parents should ultimately be helpful and not disheartening.
So, little guy, please keep calling me out in love. This momma needs growth, correction and love just as you do.
And sweet friends, when you yell or get frustrated again (because, lets be honest, it’s inevitable), ask for forgiveness and get back up and try again. Remember that you are forgiven, loved and never alone.
[I’d also like to give a little shout out to http://www.mattandtish.com for capturing these photos of our real life drama + us attempting to live these words out with our little guy, Sutton.]
With Grace,
Lindsey
***
This article originally appeared at Sparrows + Lily, published with permission.
After more than a year of infertility treatments, Rebecca Roberts and her partner, Rhys Weaver, were over the moon last year when they learned they were finally expecting their first child. The had no idea what superfetation twins were or how their lives were about to change.
They went in for an ultrasound at seven weeks, and Rebecca says it finally felt real when they heard the beautiful sound of their growing baby’s heartbeat for the first time. “I remember walking away from the very first scan so happy,” Rebecca said.
Superfetation Twins: Understanding the Distinction and the Miracle
Just five weeks later the couple from Wiltshire, England went back for their son Noah’s 12-week ultrasound. Only this time they were in for a major shock. As the sonographer moved across her belly, Rebecca could tell something was up.
But this wasn’t your average set of twins. It appeared that one of Rebecca’s babies was considerably less-developed than the other. Doctors later diagnosed her pregnancy as superfetation, an extremely rare phenomenon in which a pregnant woman becomes pregnant a second time with another, younger fetus.
At first, Dr. David Walker, Rebecca’s OB/GYN was completely perplexed by the discovery of a second baby.
“My initial reaction was, ‘How had I missed the second twin?'” he said, reflecting back on Rebecca’s first ultrasound.”And following this [I] was slightly relieved that it was not my mistake but a quite extraordinary pregnancy.”
It was only by measurements and regular scanning throughout Rebecca’s pregnancy that doctors were able to determine that the second baby—a daughter named Rosalie—was consistently three weeks behind her twin brother. Due to the limited amount of information available about superfetation, doctors warned Rebecca and Rhys that Rosalie may not survive.
“What came after getting pregnant was just such incredible hard work. It wasn’t all happy and rainbows like you expect a pregnancy to be. It was quite scary,” said Rebecca. “With twins it’s scary already, and then because of my age and the fact that they were conceived at different points, and then we were told that all the odds were against Rosalie.”
At 33 weeks pregnant, doctors had to induce Rebecca due to an issue with Rosalie’s umbilical cord, which had caused her to stop growing.
“She was only a 30-week gestation baby who hadn’t grown properly at the end,” Rebecca explained. “Her placenta never really grew properly.”
Rebecca gave birth to both of her babies via Caesarean section on September 17, 2020. Noah was born first weighing 4 pounds, 10 ounces. Rosalie came two minutes later weighing just 2 pounds 7 ounces.
“We got to see both of them as soon as they were born,” Rebecca said. “It was absolutely beautiful.”
“One of the best feelings I’ve ever had,” Rhys added.
The family’s introductions were short-lived as both babies were whisked away to the NICU, where Noah remained for three weeks, and Rosalie for 95 days. The family of four was finally reunited just a few days before Christmas when doctors gave Rebecca and Rhys the go-ahead to bring Rosalie home.
“We could finally get on and start our lives. It felt like we were on hold having them in the hospital,” Rebecca said.
The twins are now almost six months old, and Rebecca and Rhys are continuing to share their family’s story in Instagram.
“They’re my supertwins,” Rebecca told Good Morning America. “Every day I look at them and think, ‘Wow, I’m so lucky.’”
Although both twins are healthy and growing strong, Rebecca says there’s definitely a noticeable age difference between them. But their bond is what touches Rebecca the most.
“When we lay them down next to each other, it’s like they instantly know, and they reach out and touch each other’s faces, and it’s just the most beautiful thing,” Rebecca gushed. “Twins have an amazing bond anyways, but the story between these two, when they’re old enough to find out, they’ll feel even more special.”
Rebecca says she wants others to know that miracles can indeed happen. “My children are proof of that,” she says.
There’s something special about the bond between mothers and daughters, and few things capture it better than movies. Whether you’re in the mood for laughter, tears, or a mix of both, a movie night is a great way to celebrate this relationship. These mother-daughter movies highlight the complexities, joys, and challenges of this unique connection. So, grab some popcorn, cozy up on the couch, and dive into these heartwarming films.
Top 12 Mother-Daughter Movies to Watch Together
From timeless classics to modern masterpieces, here’s a list of movies that showcase the beautiful and sometimes complicated mother-daughter relationship.
1. Little Women (2019)
Greta Gerwig’s adaptation of Little Women is a heartfelt story about the March sisters, but the relationship between Marmee (Laura Dern) and her daughters is especially poignant. Marmee’s wisdom, patience, and unconditional love shine as she guides her daughters through their struggles, dreams, and relationships.
Perfect for: Fans of period dramas and literary classics.
2. Freaky Friday (2003)
This hilarious body-swap comedy starring Lindsay Lohan and Jamie Lee Curtis explores the challenges of understanding each other’s perspectives. When mother and daughter literally walk in each other’s shoes, they learn valuable lessons about empathy and compromise.
Perfect for: A lighthearted, laugh-out-loud movie night.
3. Brave (2012)
Pixar’s Brave delves into the bond between Merida, a fiercely independent princess, and her mother, Queen Elinor. Their journey from conflict to understanding is beautifully portrayed, set against a backdrop of stunning animation and Scottish folklore.
Perfect for: A family-friendly option with a touch of adventure.
Greta Gerwig’s Lady Bird captures the bittersweet and often tumultuous relationship between Christine “Lady Bird” McPherson (Saoirse Ronan) and her mother, Marion (Laurie Metcalf). This coming-of-age film portrays the ups and downs of growing up, with moments that will make you laugh, cry, and nod in recognition.
Perfect for: Teens and moms navigating those tricky adolescent years.
5. Mamma Mia! (2008)
Set on a picturesque Greek island, Mamma Mia! is a joyous musical centered on Sophie (Amanda Seyfried) and her quest to find her father before her wedding. Along the way, her relationship with her mother, Donna (Meryl Streep), takes center stage, showcasing love, sacrifice, and fun.
Perfect for: Singing along to ABBA hits and feeling the sunshine of a lighthearted story.
6. Steel Magnolias (1989)
A tearjerker that celebrates the strength of women, Steel Magnolias features a powerful mother-daughter relationship between M’Lynn (Sally Field) and Shelby (Julia Roberts). It’s a story of resilience, love, and the bond that carries families through life’s toughest moments.
Perfect for: When you’re ready for a heartfelt cry.
7. The Joy Luck Club (1993)
Based on Amy Tan’s novel, The Joy Luck Club explores the lives of four Chinese-American women and their relationships with their mothers. This poignant film delves into themes of identity, cultural expectations, and the sacrifices mothers make for their children.
Perfect for: A thoughtful, emotionally rich movie experience.
As a mother, I think it’s safe to say that the loss of a child is every parent’s worst nightmare. I have not suffered this particular tragedy, so I can only imagine the grief that accompanies losing your child in a stigmatized way, such as a drunk driving accident where your child was driving, or of a drug-related problem like a heroin overdose.
Because of the epic opioid crisis in our country right now, the latter issue is one that too many parents are facing today. Losing your child from a heroin overdose comes with extra grief because your child’s death is seen as his or her fault, and those addicted to opioids are often written off as worthless.
No one is immune to addiction or the threat of an overdose
But here is the truth: all life is precious, even the lives of those who are addicted to drugs or alcohol. One mom, Bonnie Sesolak, is on a mission to make that truth known, and help others from succumbing to opioids. I recently read her story on The Voices Project, and I found it to be so compelling that I just had to share it.
Photo:Bonnie Sesolak
Bonnie’s son Cody died of a heroin overdose at age 21. She wants everyone to know that he was more than just the cause of his death.
Our family’s life was forever changed by an unspeakable tragedy when we lost our beautiful boy, our 21 year old son Cody, to a heroin overdose. This monster stole his dreams, our dreams, and the wreckage left behind is un-navigable.
What does addiction look like? Surely not my gifted, gregarious, smart, compassionate son? Cody was the athlete that everyone wanted to be. Cody was talented, and smart. He had a beautiful girlfriend a family and friends that loved him beyond words. He loved his little brother, his dog, and He was one of the most caring, compassionate people on this planet. I truly believe that his caring, loving soul was too good for this world. He died in our home, in his bedroom.
Nichole Nordeman’s hit song “Slow Down” made literally millions of moms cry — and this season, it’s making the rounds—and upping stock in Kleenex once again!
As our kids get older, we want to urge them to slow down
I for one got weepy when my son’s school sent home a form asking how I wanted his name to appear on his kindergarten graduation diploma last week. Even though I knew the date was fast approaching, I was in denial. My first thought was “I DON’T want his name on it at all! I want him to STAY LITTLE!” He’s my baby, my last, and I feel WAY more emotional about him finishing kindergarten than I did about my older two hitting that milestone. Sigh.
As sentimental as that makes me, I can’t imagine how it feels for you mamas who are prepping for other kids’ milestones. End of sports seasons. Driving. Reaching daunting goals. Graduations. Weddings. Giving back to others. Becoming parents themselves. Can’t we all just “slow down?”
I cried at both my niece’s and nephew’s graduations over the last couple of years, and my emotions are nothing compared to that of a mama ready to send her baby off into the world.
I love the way Nordeman’s song reminds us to savor each moment with our kids, but also puts our feelings into words as far as really telling our kiddos how strongly we feel about them. I echo the song’s words to my kids “I’m your biggest fan!” And though I am in no hurry for them to leave me, I sure am thankful for the privilege that’s been given to me of raising these kids into capable adults. My oldest just became a teenager this year, and sometimes just looking at how TALL and man-like he’s becoming can put a lump in my throat. And yet, I know this is absolutely the way it’s supposed to be.
I hope you enjoy Nordeman’s video today (it’s been viewed more than 17 MILLION times!!) and remember to savor the everyday moments with your kiddos even more than usual. <3
If there’s one day every year that families should be together, it’s Christmas, isn’t it? Something about the season of thanks and giving, love and joy, it only makes sense that you would celebrate with the ones you love. Unfortunately, that’s not always the reality for thousands of families of first responders — whose mom, dad, or loved ones have to work over the Christmas holiday. So, Santa ended up writing a special letter.
One mom created a letter from Santa for families of first responders
When Virginia mom, Stephanie Davi, learned that her military husband would be working on Christmas day, she crafted a beautiful way for her family to still get to spend the holiday together. And the internet cannot get enough of it!
In a special letter from Santa that has now gone viral, the mother of two explains to kids of military and first responder families that Christmas will be happening a different way this year — back in 2018. And, Stephanie Lynn has received requests for similar letters every year since.
“I know sometimes your mom or dad can’t be home on Christmas Day because they’re working – keeping us safe and healthy,” the letter reads. “I want your whole family to have a very special Christmas morning – together.”
Courtesy of Stephanie Davi
“With that in mind,” it continues, “my elves have helped me set up a few special deliveries just for you.”
The letter then has a list of alternative dates which can be checked off by “Santa” himself to denote when he will be stopping by.
Being bullied as an adult, by adults, has been a devastating experience, but it also has benefitted me in ways I never expected. I know… who knew there were advantages of being bullied? Here’s what I’ve learned.
This by far, will be one of the hardest blogs I’ve ever done. But I pray it will bring healing and comfort to anyone who’s gone through the same tragic situation – being bullied.
For many years I’ve talked about bullying to teens across the country, but it was a topic I didn’t spend much time on. I would go through the description of both physical and emotional bullying and explain the devastation it could lead to, like depression and suicide. When I was a kid, I can’t remember being bullied besides some minor teasing and one major altercation on a play ground in middle school.
As children or adults, we see some advantages of being bullied
I didn’t fully understand what victims of bullying lived through until recently. I now have a deeper compassion for those being bullied and harassed than ever before. I pray God will use my story to help bring healing to others.
I went through some of the most hellish times I have ever gone through back in January of 2014.
That year began with my husband revealing several major things he was struggling with and it completely blindsided me. I had just had my 4th baby in 4 years. Both his parents and mine live many states away and I felt completely alone, fried and frustrated. A week later, our local school called and asked if I could do a last minute, urgent assembly for the middle and high schools in town because of all the sexting, pregnancies, bullying and other major issues they were having with some of their students. I worked over 60 hours preparing for the following week’s assemblies which actually helped me heal from the news the week before. God kept telling me to focus on what He’s called me to do and He will take care of the rest.
Shortly after speaking I found out that a woman I considered a close friend, said some things about me in the community that devastated me. My credibility as a speaker was attacked, school board members were called and told lies regarding my mothering skills (the lies could have invoked law enforcement) and my income was somehow mass texted and shared on Facebook (the numbers were way off). Up to a year later I received emails asking if I paid my taxes and was kosher with the IRS. (I’ve always paid my taxes). One of Luke’s prominent clients was informed that we can’t manage our finances and was asked how Luke could be trusted (we manage our finances with excellence). This person also told me she was furious I got pregnant the same time she did and told me I was her competition in this town. I was heart broken. I really looked up to and respected this person.
As parents, we know we can’t be in all places at all times monitoring our kids’ behavior. Nor would we want to. We want to trust our children to make great choices. But, what do you do when you suspect they’re not making the best choices? What are signs that your teenage daughter is sexually active?
What should we look for?
Living in the world today nearly everything we encounter is sexualized in one way or another. Because of that, it can be really hard to decipher between what is normal teenage behavior and what should concern us. We don’t want to be overbearing as parents but we also cannot afford to be careless. As adults, we realize that there is so much more at stake than just pregnancy and STD’s. We all would love to be able to know if our teen is having sex or considering it.
Five common signs:
1. Change in attitude or behavior
If your teen is having sex it is likely that he or she will become irritable and easy to upset. You’ll notice an attitude shift. Your daughter may become more emotional and “bratty,” as some would call it. Your sons may become very passive and easy to anger as well. These are all signs of guilt and shame manifesting. If they were brought up in a Christian home, they know the standard God has set in his word and their spirit will not be in alignment with their actions. This creates an inner turmoil that, because of their adolescence, they are not able to properly process.
2. Always curious about your whereabouts
As a teenager, I was always curious about where my parents were a lot of the time. Sometimes I wanted to know if I was going to have to make my own dinner and sometimes I was up to no good. If your teenager seems to be increasingly aware of your schedule and what you’re up to, it may be because they too are up to something. Pay attention to how often your teen asks you where you are going. For example, they may ask how long you will be gone, or to prolong your trip to get them something they need. If your teen is having sex, they need to know when and where they can, and it obviously won’t be when you are around.
3. Suddenly into their appearance
This one can be a little trickier, therefore, you have to pay close attention. You would think this is only for girls, but it applies to boys as well. With girls, you may notice subtle things like a little extra makeup for no good reason. They may start buying less modest clothes. We all know teenage girls can take lightyears to get ready even just for a trip to target. And boys are difficult unless you have one who never showers and all of a sudden takes up a new hygiene regime that includes cologne. However, you can still be aware of how much attention they give to their appearance in relation to who they are going to be around and where they are going.
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