Scary Mommy | Christine Organ
A few months ago when I was volunteering at my son’s school, I overheard a conversation between two 9-year-old girls. One of the girls was ranking the children in class in order of her favorites. She talked nonchalantly about how a new boy was number one on the list as she explained her new favorites.
The other girl listened intently, and then I heard her ask, very quietly, “What number am I on your list?”
What number am I?
I don’t even have any daughters, and I didn’t know either of the girls particularly well, but when I heard this girl ask where she fit on the list, my heart broke a little. I wanted to grab her and pull her in close for a hug, and whisper in her ear, “No no no no no! You do not need to be a number on someone’s list!“
I wanted to tell her over and over and over again, “Love yourself. Value yourself.Your worth is not based on what number someone gives you.”
My heart broke for that sweet girl and all the other girls like her in the world who are asking their own variation of that question. My heart also broke for the little girl in me, because have been that girl. I spent decades basing my worth on numbers and approval, whether real or imagined. I have asked that question — what number am I? — a million times in a million different ways.
When I heard this little girl’s quiet question — one with such loud implications — I was sad and angry and frustrated and worried. I wanted to do something to make this girl and all the other girls like her realize that a number — whether it is a number on someone’s list or the number on the scale or the number on a paycheck — can never measure your worth. Never.
But I also knew that this realization isn’t something someone can ever tell you. It is something you have to learn on your own. It is something we need to learn again and again and again.
What I’ve realized in the months since I overheard this conversation is that, in some ways and on some days, I am still that girl. There are still days when I feel like I’m asking “what number am I?” to a variety of people — whether it is a number on the scale, or the number of Facebook likes, or the number of invites to moms’ night out parties. In many different ways, too many grown women are still asking, “where do I fit on the list?” of too many people for whatever real or imagined list there may be.
We tell ourselves that we don’t give a fuck, and most of the time we probably don’t. Most of the time, we can look past the bullshit and drama, the mean girls and the mom bullies.
by MindMake via MindMake Blog
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