The Day I Realized My Kid Is Not Like Me - Baby Chick

The Day I Realized My Kid Is Not Like Me

motherhoodUpdated August 16, 2020

by Rachel MacPherson

Certified Personal Trainer and Exercise Nutrition Coach


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On the day I realized my kid is not like me, I could tell by the look in my daughter’s eyes that I’d breached a moral line.

My loving and kind-hearted daughter had been dealing with teasing and bullying all year. We’d been struggling to get the school and specific teachers to react in any sort of fashion that could make us feel like they cared. I’d become even more jaded as the months rolled by, and the teasing continued.

“I made Miss Rebecca a birthday card, it’s her birthday today!” my daughter told me after school one day. My reply? “I really don’t care about her or her birthday.” My daughter gave me that look. How could I be so cold? Her eyes searched my face for any amount of empathy or even a hint that I was sorry. I knew my face was drawn and pinched in that disapproving grimace only mothers can make.

As I looked down at her while we were walking home, my face softened. Here was this lovely empathetic little soul who only ever wanted to make sure everyone was happy and included. She didn’t deserve to be picked on because she played with the “different” child in her classroom. She didn’t deserve to be poked and laughed at because of how easily they could make her cry. But somehow she remained this soft, sweet girl she’d always been, making a birthday card for the teacher who’d repeatedly made her feel like she was to blame for her own bullying.

My response was to get angry, get my back up, retaliate. My full mama bear mode was unleashed. But I also knew that this was my personality. I am guarded, I’m careful, and I don’t trust people. I had a lot to learn from my little girl.

We are different, and that’s okay.

So often we as parents are consumed with worry about how we are raising our children to perform. Are they getting good grades, are they making the right decisions for their high school classes, do they have productive hobbies, will they be successful, make money, find a partner we can stand to be around.

It’s so easy to forget that kindness and empathy are the most human qualities we can possess. Altruism is how we survived as a species and flourished throughout millennia. We are tribal animals. We succeed by extending a hand and caring for those around us.

I was so caught up in trying to make sure that the teachers were held accountable that I neglected to recognize the power of kindness and empathy that my daughter so naturally spread to others. Her bullies weren’t making this teacher birthday cards. And what better way to show to that authority figure the true nature of my little girl and how she so clearly just wants everyone to be happy and get along?

Recognizing that my child and I are so different is a precious gift. Learning that I can turn to her as an example of compassionate humanity made me soften myself, chip away at those hardened edges that had built up in reaction to pain that I couldn’t control.

The lesson I learned from my child.

Author and researcher Brene Brown said in her book Daring Greatly,

“Raising children who are hopeful and who have the courage to be vulnerable means stepping back and letting them experience disappointment, deal with conflict, learn how to assert themselves, and have the opportunity to fail. If we’re always following our children into the arena, hushing the critics, and assuring their victory, they’ll never learn that they have the ability to dare greatly on their own.”

I hadn’t recognized that one way of dealing with conflict is to counteract it with compassion and grace. My daughter didn’t let the teachers or hurtful classmates change who she was. She was standing firm, continuing to play with the child who had no one else, continuing to make people birthday cards and to befriend any new student to the school. She volunteered to help out with the younger students. And she became a part of her school’s “Green Team” to spread positivity and eco-friendly initiatives to her classmates.

Meanwhile, I’d pulled back on volunteering for teacher appreciation. I’d brought the bar down for teacher Christmas gifts. I’d completely blocked out the idea of joining the parent-teacher community. But if I wanted to change things, I knew I have to become more like my daughter. The most courageous thing I could do was to not let these disappointments reflect in my choices and twist my personality. My daughter is not like me, but she has a lot to teach me.


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