Life has been overwhelming and busy. My kids are at an age where they push and pull me like the tides. They don’t need me at all. Until they need me so much that I’m afraid I will drown in it. I don’t want to be near their angst and anger. Until I crave fleeting moments with any connection at all.
Yesterday, I spent the evening with my son. He’s at that decision point where he’s trying to figure out what to do with his life. I see so much of myself in him. He wants to do everything. He hates to say no. He hates to disappoint people. I watch him overextend himself with a smile on his face, and I worry that he’s just like me.
He plays three sports (okay, that part is not like me AT ALL). He sings in two or three choirs, depending on the season. He’s the anchor for his drama department at school. He helps at church and he helps at home. He works out and he cooks and he sometimes even does schoolwork. And as we have heart to heart conversations about what he could feasibly let go, he brings up even more things he wants to do. Dance lessons, so he can audition for higher caliber theater productions. An elite choir to hone his skills. Join a gym to bulk up for football season. I love his enthusiasm. I admire his commitment. I am in awe of his talent. And I am worried about his health.
I have a moment of frustration because he is talking in circles. I ask him to list his priorities in order. He does, and he seems confident. And ten minutes later, he has talked himself into the opposite conclusion. We’re not getting anywhere. He wants to do it all. And I realize that THIS is what my husband feels as we pass like ships in the night, with me trying to change my clothes in the fifteen minutes that I have between watching a lacrosse game and hustling off to a deacon’s meeting, all after a long day at work.
Have I done this to him? Have I taught him that his worth is tangled up in a web of how much he can DO? Have I shown him how to please people at the expense of your own health and sanity? Perhaps. I hope not.
I try to get him to focus inward. What do YOU want? What brings YOU joy? And to some degree, his answer is ‘all of it.’ And then I hear it creep in. “Plus, I already told my friends…” “The director is planning this season around MY character…” “My team is counting on me…”
And I realize it’s not JUST people pleasing. It’s validation. I’m good at this. I’m wanted here. I’m part of something. Isn’t that what we all want? What we’re all craving, deep down?
How can I fault him for wanting that? I can’t. I can just guide him and talk him through tough decisions and remind him that he has a great big life ahead of him. He will keep getting better beyond High School. He doesn’t have to be done growing to graduate. He can keep exploring and learning and trying new things for his whole entire life.
And then I have a glimmer. My anxiety fades a bit. I realize that maybe I haven’t JUST given him people pleasing anxiety. Maybe I’ve given him more than that. Maybe I’ve shown him how to keep growing, to keep learning, to keep connecting with people even when it is easier to just slow down and sit on the couch. Maybe I’ve shown him how to keep making new friends, even when you think you already have enough of them. Maybe I’ve shown him how to use your talents and time to build something new. Maybe I’ve taught him that even an adult can learn a new instrument. That helping is hard, but worth it. That life is a series of hard choices and we’re all just doing the best we can.
Maybe I’ve taught him all of that, too. I hope so.