Truth Be Told.

I have found myself telling my 13 year old more then once in the past few weeks that middle school doesn't really matter in the grand scheme. That she won't remember who sat at her lunch table or which girls stared sideways at her once her real life starts. That the fears and tears will melt away and won't be important. I want this to be true. I wish it could be true but I know in reality all those things really help to make us who we are. I don't remember the details of the miseries of middle school but I know there were a lot. Each one of those small things helped to make me who I am. The real truth is I appreciate some of the gruesome stuff because it made me more empathetic. I know the uncomfortable feeling of not being one of THE crowd. The one who didn't have the right shoes or the flirty attitude. The one with the zit on her chin

I survived though and I continued on to high school and college and marriage and motherhood and happiness. We all want our kid to make the team or get invited to the sleepover. We want for them what we know to be the easy way. The rough stuff makes us as parents get that pit in our stomach and the lump in our throats. It makes us remember. Sometimes it is more beneficial to deal with the rough stuff though. It makes us better people. I know it did for me. It made me an individual who can stand on my own now. As much as I want to make life easier for my kids I know that with out living through their own experiences and learning along the way they will never be the real them. Truth be told.