Let’s consider two scenarios:
- The first: I was accosted by a rude woman in the deli aisle, who questioned my parenting — no, accused me of Bad Mothering! — by interrupting me dishing up a soup sample for the Boychick, with a snotty voice, saying “This stuff is really hot!” How dare she insinuate I was negligently going to burn my child’s mouth? She needed to bugger off, mind her own business. Some people!
- The second: I met a nice woman today, while I was getting a soup sample for the Boychick. She wanted to help keep him safe, so she, having just gotten scorched by the soup herself, let me know “This stuff is really hot!” I knew that already, but I was touched that she would take the time to get involved and offer a helpful word to a stranger. It really takes a village!
Sometimes there are absolute truths, and sometimes people are absolutely being douchebags. But so often, it’s a matter of perspective, and it’s at least as much up to us to avoid taking offense as it is to others to avoid giving it.
It’s so hard as mothers: we get on the defensive, because we are so often being attacked by society, by misogynists and child haters and moralists who use us as a battle ground for their causes. And sometimes, doing the oft-draining work of parenting in an oft-unhelpful society, we don’t have the reserves to open ourselves up to others, for fear of such an attack. But sometimes, oftener than we think, the stranger we meet with the maybe-helpful, maybe-not advice is well intentioned, a potential ally, a village aunty, another struggling mother — and if we could just open up, shift our own interpretations, we could be renewed and sustained by such contact, whether we needed that help or not.
An unpleasant incident that leaves us feeling attacked; a kind moment that leaves us smiling: sometimes, we get to choose. Sometimes, it’s all a matter of perspective.
Arwyn
In my bathroom hangs a plaque with a picture of a yin yang and the word BALANCE. I can never get it to hang straight. This probably says something deep and meaningful about my life.
Oh, just you wait Arwyn, I've an entire post on this and more that I've been writing, in my head, for ages now. It'll bring tears to your eyes and make you nod in agreement. Oh yes.
When I write it.
I don't think I can, it's too amazing to sully it with something so base as blogging it
So I'll just say
Good point! I agree! Yes!
I would like to think that it is just a matter of perspective however more often than not I find most commentary to be all about what you are doing wrong. So often people feel that they have the right to intervene when they don't. Many of the moral lessons I have chosen to impart to my children have been deemed harmful by so many. One example is the idea that I can raise womanist/feminist sons. Heaven forbid boys should be aware of male privilege it could somehow damage their burgeoning masculinity. Yes there is a huge snark and eye roll along with that.
Sometimes the perspective you have just depends on what mood you left the house in. I find when I go out feeling that the world is a hostile , judgemental, critical place I seem to come across people who reinforce that image, and when I go out feeling I live in a wonderful, sharing co-operative society, that becomes my experience.
If only I had power over the mood I leave the house in
It's really sort of odd to live cheek-to-jowl with so many strangers. I'm not sure we were really meant to. It creates this tension between proximity and boundaries that's very difficult to navigate, and it leads to situations like this one. What does this stranger mean, why is she talking to me, who is she anyway?
There's no good answer of course, but you're right that we can choose how to perceive things. We can decide to cast things in a positive instead of a negative light, for sure.
It does so depend on one's mood, which we both can and can't choose (I have a whole post I want to write on that someday, as someone with a mood disorder who has worked hard to get stable), and yes, a lot of the time people are just being judgmental or mean. But one of the *advantages* of living (unnaturally! — good point Amber) with so many strangers is that since we likely aren't going to see them again, we are free to (mis)interpret them in whatever way pleases us.
The soup incident really did happen to me the other day, and in that moment (after having the first scenario flash through my mind) I realized I didn't need to know or care which way she meant it, I could choose to assume the best, and feel good, or not. Maybe she did mean it meanly — but it doesn't feel good to think so. Since she's not going to be in my life to (maybe) continue to send barbs, I have no need to put on my armour against her. I can just assume she meant well, smile, and move on.
And if she didn't, what better way to spike her?
[...] A matter of perspective [...]