Just enjoy her more...
Anxiety is a funny thing. Well, not haha-funny, but
as an illness it walks that fine line between a condition one may deal with
forever and one that can conceivably be ‘fixed’--or at least that is what was stuck in
my mind after we learned my daughter had an anxiety condition known as
Selective Mutism.
For those of you who are not familiar with it, here's the lowdown…Selective
Mutism is a childhood anxiety disorder that manifests in certain social
settings where a child is completely unable to speak or communicate. Children
with this condition generally speak comfortably in familiar settings and with
familiar people, but then completely 'freeze' and experience intense anxiety in
settings outside their comfort zone. In the case of my daughter, she is able to
speak (and act) freely in our home and in the homes of several friends and
family members, but she has not spoken in school in over a year. Of course this
presents all sorts of challenges for her including not being able to ask to go
to the bathroom (this has led to bladder issues), not being able to participate
in any activity
requiring speech, and subsequent social struggles. She has
made small improvements in this time, but her biggest hurdle continues to be
talking to adults, particularly in the school environment. This is fairly
typical of her condition, but every case will present slightly differently.
My daughter’s condition first came to our attention when she
started preschool, and my notion was that she was just ‘shy’ and would speak
‘normally’ once she had had a few weeks to warm up to the school thing. I’ll
spare you the details, but we tried all sorts of things to coax her into
speaking at school, particularly to her teachers. However, everything we did just
seemed to make it worse. As a parent, I grew more and more desperate for her to
just speak so she could just get on and enjoy
school as I had envisioned she would.
I became quietly obsessed with ‘fixing’ the situation, drawing her out of her
shyness, thinking that if I just bribed or encouraged or coaxed her in
just the right way, I would draw her out of her funk. This time was not a
highlight in our relationship, and that is why I am exceedingly thankful for a
phone call I got from a school counselor that would forever change how I
approached this issue with my daughter…She called from school one Monday
afternoon to discuss Selective Mutism and the best strategies to deal with it
(FYI: specifically not bribing, coaxing,
or pressuring). The conversation strayed from being entirely professional, and this woman ended up tearfully telling me about her own
daughter who had struggled with anxiety. “I wish we had just enjoyed her more,”
she said. Those words stuck with me.
I remember one time going to a birthday party with my
daughter, one of those ad nauseum princess-theme parties with princess cupcakes,
princess decorations, princess music, princess costumes—in short, her five
year-old version of paradise! At one point, the real live Princesses Anna and
Elsa showed up for a photo op that I would never forget. Seeing them the group of girls swooned while
my daughter completely physically froze, turned beet red, and tears welled up
in her wide eyes and I all but dragged her into the group shot with the
princesses. Later I tearfully relayed this story to my husband as I showed him
the picture I had dutifully taken, “It was like she was watching her dream come
true, but she couldn’t participate,” I said. To me, her face was the very picture
of her anxiety condition.
Later at bedtime, as is our family custom, I was asking my
kids what the highlight of their day was. “Meeting the princesses!!” she said
without a moment’s hesitation and with every ounce of enthusiasm you’d expect
from a little girl who’d just met their childhood idol. Just enjoy her more, I had to remind myself.
Later that week, my daughter ran into the house after
school, pulled a princess-envelope out of her backpack, and ripped it open in
excited haste. “Look mommy! Me and the princesses!” she said. In her hands she
proudly holds a picture, the same picture actually, that I’d shed
tears over just a few days earlier—to her, just a picture of that awesome moment
when she’d met some real-live princesses!
“How cool is that
Genevieve!” I said as I proudly stuck it front and center on our
fridge. Just enjoy her more, the
words came back to me. As is often the case, my daughter was way ahead of me on
that one.
I’m thankful to be past the point on this journey where I’m
waiting some fix so that I can start enjoying my daughter--to that end, one
might always be waiting on something or other. There is joy every single day in that little girl’s life, and no one knows that better than her. It seems ridiculous to me now that I was
missing out that and sobering to consider that my attitude may have been
influencing her otherwise. Don’t get me wrong, not a day goes by that I don’t
wish her struggle would just vaporize, but in the meantime, there is no shortage
of things to celebrate. So, wherever this finds you on your parenting journey,
let this be your reminder to just enjoy
your little people more…
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