My daughter just turned seven, and loves to play pretend. She also loves to build things out of stuff she finds in the recycling bin – her room and our kitchen table is regularly covered in tin cans, empty cereal boxes, and toilet paper rolls, and I haven’t seen the scotch tape in months.
I predict an unhealthy relationship with Pinterest in her near future.
One of the more awesome things she has built is her ‘TV’. It consists of the box from her American Girl knockoff doll and a shoe box lid, taped together and covered in drawings and stickers. When she tells you it’s a TV, you might be able to sort-of tell (“Okay…I think I see it…it’s a TV? Are you sure, honey?”), but not really. She’s crazy super proud of it.
My daughter has a friend – who is six and lives down the street – who is her soul mate. My sister calls them little salt and pepper shakers, because they’re so much alike and always together. One afternoon they were over here playing, and my daughter brought out her TV. Her friend crinkled her brow and tipped her head to the side as she asked, “What is it?” My daughter answered, with 100% confidence, “It’s a TV.” Her friend raised an eyebrow, squinted a bit, tipped her head to the other side, and then said casually, “Okay cool. What are we watching?”
To explain why that moment made me cry would take more time than any of us have, but suffice to say it got me thinking. At what point did I stop being able to take what my close friends tell me and just go with it, being supportive and imaginative regardless of whether I see something the same way they do? When – and why – did I succumb to the idea that my view is the right view, and it’s my job to make sure the people close to me see that view the same way I do?
I’d like to pause briefly here and clarify that this is not a post about Trump supporters, or other people whose core belief systems are on the other side of some very important moral lines in the sand. I’m talking about friends who make life decisions that I assume I wouldn’t, or stick with a job or a partner longer than I think I would. Or leave a job or a partner earlier than I – in my so-called wisdom – think I would. Decisions that have absolutely nothing to do with me that I form an opinion about anyway.
We all do it. A friend posts an announcement on Facebook, and after loyally hitting ‘like’ on the post, we hurry to text a mutual friend with our opinions about the announcement. Or we call our partner over to the couch, yelling, “Oh my god, check this out – so-and-so is switching jobs again!”
When my son was my daughter’s age, the most he had to worry about socially was being jealous of his friend’s Lego set. But my daughter is right on the precipice of that age when mean girls rule the day – girls become petty and cruel so much freaking sooner than boys do, it’s terrifying. But here these girls are, dying to become teenagers so they can wear makeup and bras and feel grown up, and yet are still able to look at a couple of cardboard boxes taped together and say, “Okay, if you say it’s a TV, I’m good.”
Because who cares if it looks like a TV or not, you know? Who cares if I would have put the lid on differently, or drawn something else? The only thing that changes if I point out that it doesn’t look like a TV, or argue that I wouldn’t do it that way, is that I don’t get to play with my friend. So who cares if someone makes a shift in their life that I wouldn’t? Especially…good god especially if they aren’t even asking for my advice on the matter?
I talk a lot about trying to push past the opinions of others – to forge ahead even when those close to me don’t agree with what I’m doing. But that day I had a big ol’ slap-in-the-face reminder that I am not innocent in that game. Not even a little bit. If I’m being completely honest with myself I really don’t think I could have, if I was in my daughter’s friend’s place, just gone with the TV thing. I would have had to inject my opinion somewhere, just to make sure it was clear that I did not see a TV when I looked at that pile of boxes. I would have taken a proverbial ice pick to her bubble, and for no more reason than to make my opinion known.
A sobering thought.
The next time I start to form an opinion about the way a friend is handling a situation, I’m going to take a beat. I’m going to decide whether my life is in any way affected by the outcome of this situation, and then, as best I can, I’m going to respond the way a little girl recently taught me.
I’m going to say, “Okay cool. What are we watching?”