In the house where I grew up, when Mom wasn’t happy, people knew about it. I’d shrink down in my chair when she’d tell restaurant servers that they were too slow. When we had problems at school, she always had our backs. I had a neighbor who lived across the street who got her jollies by bossing me around. When I came home with tears in my eyes, my mom always told me exactly what I should turn around and say to Lucy. I never, not even once, had the courage to actually go do it.
I didn’t get much better at standing up for myself as I got older. When I disagreed with someone, I kept it to myself. I once tried to go in and talk to a college professor about why I got an A- in a class where my grade was a 96, but dissolved into such a muddle of tears that I turned around and left before I could explain myself. A few years ago, my oldest son was struggling in preschool. The teachers asked the school district for advice, and after filling out some questionnaires and letting them observe him at school, they determined that he had autism. I knew my kid, knew in my gut that although he had problems, autism wasn’t the right conclusion. So what did I do? I cried. A lot. Then I cried some more. Then I put him in the program they were offering for kids with autism. I was so emotional about the situation that I couldn’t stand up for what was right for my son.
Last year my older daughter was in kindergarten. At home she was reading Little House on the Prairie, learning muliplication tables along with her big brother, and teaching herself cursive. At school she was copying the letter A and counting to 50. I watched her getting more and more bored as the year progressed and the newness of going to school every day wore off. But I didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to be a complainer. Being well-mannered and nice seemed so important to me. She came home one day asking if there was any way she could just go to second grade. The idea of asking terrified me. But this time I didn’t just sit by. I asked. She took tests and passed them easily. I called the principal to discuss the best second-grade class for her. And now she’s very happy in second grade.
I’m still taking baby steps when it comes to standing up for myself and my kids. On the first day of school, I noticed that my oldest had been placed in a class with two children who had bullied him in the past. I felt sick about it. I cried and worried and prayed. Finally, I sent an email to his teachers and the counselor and expressed my concerns. Then I cried and second-guessed myself. Within ten minutes the counselor was on the phone with me, and the next day they had made changes.
I doubt I’ll ever be much of a debater, and I’ll still tip 20% for bad restaurant service, but this growing a backbone thing isn’t as bad as I feared. In fact, I feel like it’s opening up a whole new world of possibilities for me. Instead of sitting silently in the back of Sunday School, maybe I can open my mouth when the Doctrine taught seems to have nothing to do with the Gospel. Maybe I won’t leave the stylist’s chair with a bad haircut and a smile on my face. Maybe one day I’ll even be able to disagree with someone without crying.
Another sensitive soul like myself. I had many years of feeling this way all the time and was put into a responsibility where I had to learn when and how to do that very thing. In the process, I discovered that my sensitives became a strength, rather than a weakness. I learned when it was important to speak up and how to redirect my emotions into a passion to be heard in the right way. I learned to also sense when to hold back and just live with the circumstances. Now, my tender heart is more protected, and I’m not second guessing myself as much as before.
Another wonderful thing that having children can do for us. It gives us courage to fight battles for them that we’d never fight for ourselves. And perhaps in the process gain the strength to stand up for ourselves a little more too.
I really appreciate your post. This is something that I too have struggled with my whole life. What helped me personally was being in a marriage that forces me to confront certain people who CAN AND WILL walk all over me unless I don’t stand for it. It’s been so hard. I’ve cried and worried, shook in their presence, but ultimately had the strength to stand up for myself. You too can do it and I believe you will be fueled by your successes of doing the smaller things. Good luck!
Shelah, it sounds like you’re figuring it out! I had no backbone, too, and am grateful I began growing one a while back. It is so freeing on so many levels! My favorite example happened once in a restaurant with a friend. I ordered a drink I ended up not liking. When the waiter came back, I simply said, “I don’t like this afterall. Could I please have something else?” By that time, it was perfectly comfortable for me, but my friend, sitting there with her mouth agape, waited for the waiter to leave before she said, “Wow. I could never do that.”
I’ll never be a debater, either, but the confidence and peace that comes from healthily expressing my thoughts is fantastic. Good luck!
It’s okay not to want to hurt another person’s feelings. It is possible to describe your feelings without treating another person with respect. I want to avoid confrontations too. I find writing out my concerns a good way to respond. I can go back over my words, take the time to explain things logically, make my case. Especially when it comes to being an advocate for your child in a school situation, writing things down helps to document your observations and reasons for how you want things for your child. When you send it in the mail, you don’t have to worry about the initial reaction. The time it takes to respond to you diffuses emotion. Which reminds me, I need to write a letter to my son’s teacher about his reading skills. You’re doing alright. Write those letters for your kids. Most teachers want to help and value any input you have. It’s easy to see you love your kids and want the best for them. Way to go!
did you steal this post from me? even though I never wrote it down? cause i could have typed it almost verbatim.
weird!
♥
I totally could have written this post too–I’ve been really working on learning to be assertive (not agressive) with people and it’s working, sometimes. I’m also a little worried about my daughter in kindergarten this year, but she’s not reading yet (advanced in other areas), so she’ll probably not get too bored. I hope.
Oh, and do we have the same mom? Is there something about having an outgoing/assertive/brassy/embarrassing mom that produces unassertive kids? My mom still embarrasses me in public and I’m 30 now!
In ‘real’ life I am a wuss. My mom drove us all nuts with her demands and dissatisfaction about everything attitude, so I am determined to just eat cold dry eggs and not complain to a waitress.
However, when it comes to my kids, I was/am a momma bear and growled to the rooftops. I tried to keep my vision in perspective, meaning I tried to see where my kids could be wrong, or to blame. That said, I bit the head off many in defense and/or being an advocate for my kids.
Good on you young moms who do the same. Follow your gut instincts when your children are at stake.
FoxyJ, you’re scarin’ me, honey. I have way too much backbone, and am probably just like your and Shelah’s mother, and I’m totally nervous now about overshadowing my kids too much and hobbling their own assertiveness.
Dang. Something else I’ve got to learn.
FoxyJ- It seems to go in generational cycles in my family. My great-grandmother had enough assertiveness for ten women. Her daughter (my grandma) is meek and sweet and wouldn’t hurt a fly. My own mom definitely knows when to be outspoken (and sometimes can’t help herself). Then there’s me. And my own daughter seems to have no problem at all standing up for herself.
no backbone here either, especially in person. The tears come before I can get a logical thing to come out of my mouth. BUT, via email I’m fierce. I kind of like/hate that fierce part of me. When my oldest comes home and tells me about a negative experience, I try to suggest an assertive but not aggressive course of action for him. BUT, what I really want is for the situation to have never happened, and to never happen again so we don’t have to deal with it anymore. My hubby on the other hand just tells him to hit the kid back (and usually in the midst of one of my most ‘parental’ moments of consoling council too).
I am just a heap of conflicting personalities. If it has to do with my kids, it’s gloves off - battle mom. If is has to do with calling a repairman or asking for help from anyone, I’d rather hide in the closet.
I think most people probably think I’m strong-willed, and I can be, but I’ve been beat up a little in this thing we call life and tears are always very close to the surface. I think I sometimes put on this tough facade to hide my fears (and tears). I have some very strong feelings and convictions and I act tough mostly to make me feel tougher.
I really want to raise my children to be tough, yet tender. That is a hard thing to teach, but I’m trying.
The mother/daughter effect is so interesting.
I have no backbone when it comes to my own interests(which is why I had to sell my business before I gave all the inventory away) but I am a fierce mother bear when it comes to my children and friends.
And Shelah, you’ve struck me as being so confident. Maybe I’m wrong in thinking that self-esteem and assertiveness are twin virtues?
Michelle–
As long as everyone is happy, I have plenty of self-esteem. It’s when people aren’t happy or I think I might cry (which tends to happen a lot when my kids are concerned) that I can’t assert myself. When the going gets tough, this girl hides.
Gosh, this is probably none of my business, but as a mom with a child who was temporarily misdiagnosed with autism, I am sitting her wondering about your son. If there is any reason to develop a backbone, that’s it. I’m not saying you don’t have one (you are) but stiffening the spine to meet the needs of a child who is experiencing problems in school is essential. Of course, my spine is probably a bit too stiff by now . . .
Heidi–
I’m glad to explain what ended up happening. He was put in a preschool for kids with special needs (not specific to autism) two mornings a week and then went to his regular preschool with an in-class aide (for him and another kid) two mornings a week. After a few weeks, his special ed preschool teacher told me (and I had actually already tried to tell the people who did the evals, but they told me I was too emotionally involved to understand, which you can imagine produced major waterworks) that she didn’t think he had autism, but that there was plenty for her to work on with encouraging social skills. So that’s what they focused on for the year. I actually think it ended up being not such a bad thing for him. When he entered kindergarten the following fall, it was in a regular classroom. He’s been (mostly, lol) fine ever since.
Oh, yay! I’m so glad! My son who is not autistic, is still not okay. Still, having him misdiagnosed was way worse than correctly diagnosed. Also, having “experts” tell you that you are wrong and don’t know what you are talking about really reeks. It’s enough to make a nice girl turn murderous. So glad to hear that all is well–thanks!
Assertive, embarrassing mom — Hm-m-m-m-m-m — would you ever guess that the overly aggressive, bull-in-a-china-shop woman you described was once so shy she was unable to stand up for herself, express her thoughts to others, or pursue her dreams? Her own mother was even less assertive (so no help there)— consequently, along the way to becoming an adult, she learned to fend for herself and those she cares about(albeit not always gracefully). A shy, sensitive person still lurks beneath the surface, stronger with life’s experiences, but continually feeling awkward in the face of adversity.
Well, I guess we have more in common than I thought, Mom! I can’t tell you how much I admire the fact that you and Jilly are able to speak your mind. And the number of times that your assertiveness is a strength far, far, far outweighs the times that I’ve been momentarily embarrassed. I guess that growing into our assertiveness is something else we share!
I really relate to the comment about being terrified of calling a repair-person — and my house is falling down around my ears thanks to that fear of mine. (I think my other obstacle to making those calls is knowing that it will lead to my tight schedule and crowded space being even further imposed upon — and also DH and I are big do-it-yourselfers, and it’s hard for us to decide when something is really beyond our abilities or free time.)
I always say one of my biggest challenges in life is having the temperament of a conformist but the ideas of a maverick. I am careful how I choose my battles, but I MAKE myself do it if one of my kids’ well-being depends on my courage. I can also sometimes enjoy a good discussion on a controversial topic (like the Palin one on here this week) but am far more likely to speak up when I trust in the basic good will of the other parties in the discussion.
Oh, and there are a few areas where I’ve become pretty instinctively assertive — as with expecting (good customer service. A year or so ago I had bought something at a shop in the mall that wasn’t on sale, but I had first researched the company’s policy on price-changes, and learned that the store would reimburse you the difference if the item went on sale within two weeks of your purchase. It did go on sale, and I went in to the store for my reimbursement. The clerk said, “We don’t do that.” I said, “Yes, you do — I looked it up online, and it’s your company’s policy.” She: “Well, no one’s ever done it before.” Me: “Well, I want to do it.” She: “I don’t know how to do that.” (She said this with an air of finality, turning her body slightly away from me and averting her eyes.) Me: “Well, is there someone here who does? I would like to have my refund.” She: “No, there isn’t.” Me: “Can you call someone who does?” She: “Well, I could . . . although he’s not working right now . . . if you REALLY want me to.” (Translation: only if you make me.) Me: “Yes, I would like you to.”
So, she finally called a manager at home and he told her how to do the refund. I could tell she was VERY unhappy with me, but I wasn’t going to let her browbeat me out of her doing her job. So, there are definitely times when I can be very assertive. I didn’t enjoy the experience AT ALL, but I guess I was proud of myself for not giving up. (But I also have to admit I have not dared ask for a price change at that store again . . . sigh.)
This has definately been my struggle too. Thanks for sharing!
This is an interesting post and discussion. I am a people-pleaser by nature, and I find it hard to be assertive.
FWIW, a couple of books have really helped me at least understand why it’s important to learn to figure boundaries out. One is called Boundaries (easy enough to remember) by Henry Cloud and John Townsend (Christian authors who even discuss the way the Savior wants us to be good stewards of ourselves by not letting others control our lives) and The Anatomy of Peace. (Simply. Amazing. - I think it should be required reading for everyone). That book helped me understand how I can be loving and kind while still having healthy boundaries and relationships — and a healthy me.
For me, understanding the principles in these books was life-altering, or at least began an important journey that I’m still on (prolly will be for my lifetime).
Anyway, fwiw….
thanks for the book recommendations! Those both sound really interesting!