Sometimes I look at the broken fragments of life and think there is no way that good will come.
This especially applies to my perspective as a parent. When it boils down to it, I don’t want loneliness, pain, or heartbreak to be part of my child’s story. I want only friendship, success, joy, and health in their journey.
The idea of my child growing in the midst of trials sounds great until I am in a front-row seat to their hurt. At that point, I do not want to stay in the uncomfortable seat of an observer. I want to call “CUT,” and rewrite the pain from the scene.
The story running through my mind is that this is “impossible.” There is no way this will come together for good. There must be something I should do to fix it. I hold my breath. It is all I can do to stay in my seat.
If I had gotten out of my seat and called “CUT,” I would have interfered with the beautiful unfolding of their journey. It would have made the storyline about me as the hero instead of letting my child be in the starring role.
My role is to keep showing up and sit in that front row seat despite the discomfort. When I accept that, I see the impossible becoming possible and realize it has nothing to do with me.
I give my child a standing ovation, tears of joy running down my face. They overcame. They grew. They found the tools they needed. They turn to me beaming and they are PROUD of their journey. They did not need me to be the hero of their story.