Loving Life and Not the Game

Our toddler recently complained about a bully—a child that has been consistently teasing and hitting her.

Concerned parents, our initial responses were:

-Why? Were you doing something to provoke the child?
-Just ignore him and he’ll leave you alone.
(and the Hubby’s personal favorite)
-Hit’em back, that’ll teach him to mess with you!

Thoughtful advice to stop a child from hurting. In the short-term, that is.

The truth is, bullies are everywhere—in schools, in the workplace, in your relationships.

We know who they are. They pick on the new kid...complain incessantly...point the finger at everyone else but themselves...take delight in demeaning others. They may even physically hurt you.

And you’ve probably tried your hardest to stop their bullying by appeasing them, ignoring them, fighting back.
And have failed.

My best advice? Don’t play their game.

So the next time he bullied her, she said:
I won’t play with you if you can't place nice. Then got up and left.

Walk. Discover real friends and true love. Appreciate them for giving you genuine advice, for respecting your ideas, for making you happy. Because playing games will only make you miserable. And you deserve better.

La Fuerza

I come from a long line of strong women.

We are proud and stubborn, hard-working and family-first, sentimental and defensive. We are a puzzle.

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I asked my husband once, Am I tough?

He quickly responded, No. Arguing pursued, as my feelings were evidently hurt.

Weakness was not an acceptable trait growing up. We women were taught to have hard exteriors, to guard our emotions, and fire our fierce tempers when necessary. The rule of thumb: Conceal all signs of weakness.

We’ve crossed oceans and raised children alone in foreign lands. We’ve sought after positions once available only to men. We’ve built businesses. We’ve battled our husbands’ infidelities. And fought disorders that devoured our spirits.

I provided countless life examples to prove his statement wrong.

You’re strong, but not tough, he reiterated.
What’s the difference? I asked.
His response: You let people get to you.

I escaped to our bedroom to ponder the distinction. We women are not tough. We accept others’ criticism and actions to heart. We suffer the pain of their wounds. We pick ourselves apart, examine the pieces, analyze the possibilities, and reassemble.  After endless scrabbling, we persevere.

There is nothing wrong with having moments of weakness. As long as we awaken–new, vibrant and ambitious. We are strong.