Where Have You Been, Where Are You Going?
As we enter La Rentrée (the French phrase for the return to school, work and everyday life after summer vacation ends-it’s a great phrase, use it!), it’s natural for everyone to ask, “How was your summer?”
July was a crunch, mostly working with less childcare and hotter weather. August, I finally got into relaxation mode, just in time for the craze of back-to-school and containing preschool jitters and energy. It was short-lived.
You may have noticed that this coincided with a couple of weeks off from posting and assumed it was because I was taking time off. Well, yes. I did take a clean break to give myself space from work, technology, and thinking. But I actually had content prepared to post and things that came up that I wrote about during the break. I was prepared to keep up with weekly posts.
But I ended up not posting them. And letting the blog go instead.
Because when I publicly share my writing, I deeply consider its impact on my patients, my kids, my parents, my friends, my husband, and others. I work through their potential interpretations and reactions to my writing—and whether or not that cost is worth it.
So as I went through my writing and contemplated what to post, I found the list shrinking.
And with it, my voice, my words, my perspective, and the space I was willing to offer myself.
This has got me thinking:
Was I adapting to meet the needs of others, or was I shrinking myself to avoid rocking the boat?
What is the difference between adapting and shrinking?
Where do you draw the line between the two?
And how am I teaching my children to navigate this question?
I already know there are no direct or clear answers. And really, at the core, the threshold between the two is not static.
Ultimately, the question is how we negotiate between our own expectations and needs and the needs and expectations of others.
And the answer can vary with so many variables—who you’re interacting with, your life stage, the time of day, whether you’re in public or a private space.
There are some who would say:
NO! You should always be your authentic self above all else.
And others who would idolize you for always considering others over yourself.
How do you find a clear path to showing up as your authentic self while still being attuned and responsive to the world around you?
Well, sorry, I don’t have a formula for you.
And when it comes to my kids, the noise around what I’m teaching them about all of this is super loud.
I think it’s usually the trust, in ourselves and in our children, that’s the hardest part. And the messages around us—that we must always be optimizing and improving ourselves to be valuable humans, that we must parent in certain ways if we want our children to become a certain type of adult—erode our confidence and cause us to respond in ways that are counterproductive to our goals.
I know for me, at least, that’s often where I get stuck. Worrying if I’m good enough, worrying if I’m doing it right, if they’re doing it right, and what all of this will mean down the road.
But I do have some things that help me mostly hold confidence that I’m moving through the world in a balanced space, maintaining connection to both myself and how I want to show up for those around me. And that can reground me in moments when I waver.
Cultivating insight into how I operate—having a deep reserve of information of who I am, my values and goals, my physical, social, and emotional needs, and my genetic tendencies. You can’t be authentic and make space for yourself if you don’t know who you are in the first place.
Staying embodied—being sure I have practices that connect me to how I feel, and time and space to check-in so I actually know how I’m feeling, how life is impacting me and what I need in real time.
Preserving the quiet—I need time to myself to rest, recover, and be my best self. I often have to say no and boundary off my time to ensure I have adequate space to do so.
Listening—responding to cues from myself and others about how my behaviors and decisions are impacting me and them. Not being defensive or reactive. But considering, understanding and responding.
Taking risks—being willing to take actions, try things out, move with uncertainty, and not overthink or get stuck in imperfection.
Acceptance and Flexibility—there may be consequences for me or others, someone’s needs may not be met, the outcome may be imperfect. None of this will be irreparable or override all the times I am able to strike the right balance. And I can always reflect, pivot and change it up next time.
The work is no different with my kids, really. Helping them build these skills. But most importantly, holding a fundamental trust that they are kind and compassionate humans with both a strong connection to themselves and an innate drive to care for others. A trust that they will imperfectly move along their life path, finding ways to establish their own balance.
And responding to them in ways that allow them to build this trust in themselves.
It’s not easy work.
When they don’t sleep. When they yell. When they don’t say thank you. When they don’t invite certain kids to their birthday party. When they assert themselves to a teacher. When they break down because they can’t go to the homecoming party.
Our inner child wakes up and screams at us to react. To parent them out of behaviors that make us uncomfortable. To suppress things our brains and bodies flag as threats to how they will be viewed by others, or threats to how well they will be able to take care of themselves when they’re out in the world without us.
Being able to know when we are parenting out of old reaction patterns instead of with compassion and intentional limits is essential. Honestly, not just for our goals for our children, but to really, truly know ourselves and be able to honor that person too.
There’s some dust we must find and brush off. Some clutter to clear.
So, where does that leave us?
Right back where we started, in some ways, I suppose. Still wondering am I shrinking or standing. Still holding those questions about my parenting.
But I think also more clear than ever that this in between is the endline. More firmly rooted in accepting that the assessment doesn’t end—but also doesn’t have to dominate my time, energy, relationships, or parenting.
Accepting that I can be confident without assurance. That ambivalence does not mean failure.
Yes, I shrunk a bit here. There are some things I’ve written that I will keep private for the benefit of others.
Actually if I’m being honest, I shrink a lot here. There’s a lot I think, see and feel that I don’t say here for the benefit of others.
Or perhaps I use my protection of others as a rationalization for protecting my own vulnerabilities? And I don’t really say it here because I’m scared to be seen.
Now that’s something to think more about.
But I’ve also shown up and been vulnerable in a way that I truly feel honors my needs and comfort right now.
That’s authentic to who I am in this moment.
And that’s good enough for today.
Until next time,
Allie