It’s Tuesday, so that means I’m over at Feel More Better. It’s also the 11th anniversary of 9/11, and so I am thinking about what unexpected tragedy means in our everyday life, but I have to warn you, I don’t have any profound, meaningful way to sum it all up. There’s no platitudes that make it okay.
The reality is that sometimes awful things happen out of the blue, and somehow we have to keep going, anyway. (I have yet to see that on a Hallmark card.)
Regardless, my thoughts and prayers are with the families who lost loved ones eleven years ago today.
Been following for a long time. I can’t help but wonder and might as well ask you a chickadee question… Considering where she is today, do you have anything you would have done differently, you know, at some point in the past. Any regrets that run through your mind? Anything that could help other young girls and their families prevent this from happening? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to…. It’s just that I have three young girls and can’t even fathom what you and your daughter are going through. I have a hard time when my 8 year old gets pissy and glares at me over something as simple as practicing the piano! What do the teenage years hold?
Thanks for sharing pieces of your life with strangers.
That’s a great question, Sonia. I can’t tell you how much I wish I could pinpoint something—anything—and say “That’s the thing we should’ve done differently” so that I could assure other people that if only you do XYZ instead of ABC, it won’t happen to you.
If you’ve been reading me for a long time then you’ve likely gleaned that I am a champion guilt-holder. A significant portion of my time in therapy is spent wrestling with the guilt of feeling like I should’ve been able to prevent this, somehow. And on the one hand, sure, going through a rough divorce and having parents with very different parenting styles is no picnic for my kids, yes (though I still believe it ended up being healthier than the alternative). But on the other hand, some stuff is genetic. My therapist has assured me several times when I get into the “maybe if I’d just—” loop that this is just who my daughter is and what she’s going to have to work through. It’s no different than if she’d gotten cancer; she’s sick and no one could’ve stopped it from happening.
The only thing I regret at this point that’s actually within my control (ha!) is I think I should’ve gone back to therapy, myself, sooner. The emotional support is nice, of course, but more importantly, I have (with guidance) completely changed how I interact with my kiddo. I don’t kid myself that if I’d done this sooner it might’ve “saved” her or anything, but it certainly would’ve saved me a lot of heartbreak during that time when I still believed that “good parenting” could somehow “fix” her.