I held my daughter’s hand as we walked along the busy suburban street. We were off to buy her new school shoes. It was sunny and there was a light breeze. Cars whooshed by. We chatted about her day.
School had gotten off to a shaky start for her. She had heaved with sadness. Tears tumbled down her cheeks. She had chosen to remain silent, eyes begging me not to leave her. As proud parents held their phones aloft taking photos of their squeaky clean children in pressed uniforms and shiny shoes standly proudly by their new desks, our child held tightly to my leg and turned her face from her peers. School was not of her choosing. There would be no smiling for the camera. She was willing herself home to her bed and favourite television show. She was willing herself into our loving arms.
The day had gotten off to a shaky start for me too – I’d had to pull her sobbing body off of me and dart out the classroom, avoiding the concerned looks of the other parents. Heartbreaking, yet predictable. It had been a long day for both of us.
I thought a trip to the shoe store would help. It always helps me. We looked in the shop windows as we passed them – dog accessory store, chocolate shop, clothes shop. None of them stood out enough to stop and peer in to, she was too excited to get new sandals. I was relieved to be holding her hand. We ambled along together. The day was almost over.
Then I caught a glimpse of two people in the glass – a gorgeous little girl with the fairest of hair, wearing her oversized dress, her gentle smile and tired eyes, holding hands with a woman. The woman was doing the “wobble walk” that pregnant and overweight women do as their weight shifts with each step. She looked like a toy of old which would topple from side to side, yet never over-balance – a precarious footing. Her shoulders were hunched, her hair frizzy. Her belly was extended and her bottom had an extra roll of fat which sat just below the top of her stretch pants, it pushed up and out when her legs moved. Her face looked blotchy and her eyes heavy. She was doing the shuffle.
I watched them walking along hand-in-hand for awhile. I didn’t recognise the woman in the mirror, but the girl was mine.
bigwords x
Hi, I'm Bianca Wordley, I write about life.
Oh B, my heart breaks for you. I know this feeling too well, I have a little one of the anxious variety too who does not separate easily and there are no words to describe the heart break of walking away from them, convincing yourself they have to go, that you are doing the best thing. It gets easier, I promise. We still have hard days, but slowly but surely things improve, get a little better and a little easier.
All my love xx
Thanks so much sweetheart. Today she sat right down – no tears. Great start to the day xx
You have such a beautiful way with words Bianca. My daughter started prep this year and even though it’s 4th term there are still days when her teacher has to literally peel her off me. I try to not let it bother me as I know there will probably come a time where she’ll ask me not to walk her to school anymore.
Bianca, you are too hard on yourself. I am sorry you are going through this with your darling girl.
I read this post last night before I went to bed. I started about five different replies … all of which I scrapped. I figured I’d sleep on it. This morning I feel strongly that perhaps the best thing I do is share some information with you. I hope it helps you, like it’s helped me.
Last year I watched an incredible documentary called ‘Hungry for Change.’ One of the experts interviewed throughout the film is Jon Gabriel. His story is quite incredible. His approach to diet and weight loss is like no other I’ve ever heard of (and I know ’em all, pretty much). I started with his website http://www.thegabrielmethod.com (it’s very ‘American’ … don’t be put off!) … I then bought his book. This dude, and what he has to say really resonated with me. It’s changed my whole mindset.
I hope this info helps. It sucks to feel the way you do. I know.
Sending big hugs … jx
I often wondering who the woman is my children are walking past the shop with. Beautifully written. xx
Your words are more than BIG words B, they are gentle raindrops and roaring seas and so, so well put together in posts like this. What a big step it is for one little middle child to start on her school journey..not the way most do, but in her way. Bravo miss 5 and I love her mama too! D xxx