Unraveling toxic masculinity -- A couple years ago, my 7-year-old son and I sat on a couch on the back porch at his grandparents' home in Florida. A breeze ruffled the palm trees and stingrays floated down the canal. He looked over at me and said, “I hate being the smallest one in the family." His eyes welled up with tears.
You were so incredibly wise, Jenny, to sit with your son's difficult emotions instead of trying to smother them, ignore them, tell him to suck it up or get over it. He will be a remarkable man with your help.
Last week a family on my street lost their 11-year-old daughter to a brain tumor. She had an operation last year that gave everyone so much hope for her permanent recovery; but a few cells of the tumor remained and grew again. The only coherent thing I could think of to write the inconsolable family was, "We walk with you in your sorrow." And that's it, right there: In our shared humanity, we must walk with one another. That's what you did with your boy.
Oh, friend. In the face of such pain, it is SO hard to not know what to do or say. Grateful for your simple bearing witness to tragedy without wanting to fix it for them. Oof.
“Here's to opening our hands wide to bear witness to the pain of our people, without fixing, explaining and offloading. The pain itself is beautiful. May your choice to bear witness create space for others to heal.” 🙏❤️
You were so incredibly wise, Jenny, to sit with your son's difficult emotions instead of trying to smother them, ignore them, tell him to suck it up or get over it. He will be a remarkable man with your help.
Last week a family on my street lost their 11-year-old daughter to a brain tumor. She had an operation last year that gave everyone so much hope for her permanent recovery; but a few cells of the tumor remained and grew again. The only coherent thing I could think of to write the inconsolable family was, "We walk with you in your sorrow." And that's it, right there: In our shared humanity, we must walk with one another. That's what you did with your boy.
Oh, friend. In the face of such pain, it is SO hard to not know what to do or say. Grateful for your simple bearing witness to tragedy without wanting to fix it for them. Oof.
Jenny, this is such a beautiful piece. Thank you for sharing your wise experience with us.
“Here's to opening our hands wide to bear witness to the pain of our people, without fixing, explaining and offloading. The pain itself is beautiful. May your choice to bear witness create space for others to heal.” 🙏❤️
Beyond beautiful, Jenny. Goosepimpling. Thank you so much for this awesome post.