It's been four or more months since I posted last. This is a bit of a shame but I am not going to waste time feeling guilty - there were reasons. Probably not very good ones but sheer laziness and procrastination are still reasons.
I was for a time, more and more, home-schooling my son. For anyone who reads my blog knows, many of the posts are about his struggles to fit in and be accepted and mine to have the strength and wisdom to help him. It's been harder than usual as I am working most days and I had to leave him work to complete at home with his father (who was not working at the time but fixing up the house and being a stay-at-home parent).
He did most of the work I set some of the time and I tried to convince myself that he was doing more than the kids at school (he probably was because the Year 8s at his school do very little real, quantifiable work from what I can gather - and I am there every day as a teacher so I do see what goes on). But, it weighed heavily on my mind and my tofu-heart because I just didn't know what to try next.
If someone could just have said to me, "Look, he will be okay. Just trust yourself and your husband and you will see." I would have heaved a sigh of relief. But telling myself that day in and day out only worked temporarily. So this is how I was feeling and this is the dilemma I was carrying when a 'friend' of mine decided to tell me 'The Truth'.
* * *
When she casually dropped the word 'instigator' it registered in my brain as INSTIGATOR! That's my brain and I have to deal with it. But that's what I heard in my mind. And the physiological reaction began. Whilst I did indeed have it out with her, I am physically made weak and fragile by confrontation - any type really. I don't mean to say that I cannot stand up for myself or that I am shy and vulnerable and can't be strong. Much of my strength lies in my patience and ability to bide my time in many ways; and I certainly am rather opinionated and reasonably forceful if I feel the situation necessitates it. And in things that don't matter too much I am calm and clear in my thinking and reacting - but there are triggers or buttons that, if pressed or pushed or even tinkered with, make me almost crazy with, not just anxiety, but cold sweats, stomach pains, raised heart-rate, nausea and even pressure to my skull as if my brain is swelling! I fall down fast into a well of despair and find myself unable to function properly for several days. The word 'instigator' did this to me.
A little word cannot have so much power except what I invest in it. Very true. But it's a word that also means nasty, bullying, calculating, unkind, hurtful, provocative, initiating and starter - as in 'firestarter'. And I felt the flames of those words - those connotations - fiercely enough because the person saying them (in that one little word 'instigator') was speaking about my son. And I know all mothers think their children are innocent and don't want to believe that their sons can be bullies too - but I know he is none of these things and I felt the burn of unfairness singe my heart. Am I overusing the metaphor? Not if you were standing in my shoes that day. I had had enough.
When I asked her what she meant she said she was 'angry' at me for taking my son out of the private school that her boys still attend - the one she and her husband make them attend even though they would like to go somewhere different. I was struck dumb for several seconds. I said, "You're angry with me??! For doing what I think is right for my child? For taking him away from a situation that was not good for him?"
"Yes," she said. "For sending him to a new school where I believe he is worse off that he was before."
"But that's my (and my husband's) choice! What has it got to do with you?"
"It has made it harder on us."
(WHAT?)
"Let me get this straight. You are angry for taking him out of the school because it makes it harder on you? Am I getting this right?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"Our boys want to leave too but we choose to send them back into hell every day of the week. They want to know why your son can leave and they can't."
(WOW.)
And then I understood. She wasn't mad at us for the sake of our son. I don't think she could particularly care less. She was inconvenienced by our choice and had probably had arguments with her husband over the situation and he stood his ground and she had to deal with it. So she took it out on me. She claimed, of course, to be worried about him. But I realised then, and I believe now, that this was not truly the case.
Obviously I told her that our decisions regarding the welfare of our son were nobody's business but our own and that being a friend did not give her license to give such advice unsolicited - nor was I going to accept it gracefully. I told her that I would not think of judging her and telling her my opinions about her child-rearing. Nobody walks in our shoes and I had better things to occupy my mind anyway than other people's problems.
As you can see, I am not over it yet. Her telling me that friendship meant being able to tell each other what we think only prompted the response in me that, no, indeed it's probably more a sign of friendship that we learn to keep quiet. Nothing destroys a friendship quicker than opening one's mouth without having first considered one's response and the real reasons for responding. She suggested then that I write a list of the all the things she is allowed to discuss with me so she knows. Sarcasm didn't help the situation and neither did her idea that I needed to go home and think about why I had reacted the way I did.
I knew exactly why.
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