My third baby is no longer a baby. She’s a part-sweet, part-salty, all-American thirteen-year-old girl. Now in seventh grade—the school year I loathed more than any other—she’s navigating a time of life that can be uniquely cruel. What is it about this age? Girls can be mean and cliquey, while boys are often little turds(I include my amazing son, when he was this age). To be fair, it’s not entirely their faults. Hormones are raging, emotions are volatile, and everyone is trying to figure out who they are.
Moodiness and irritability come with the territory, but there’s a world of difference between being moody and being mean.
The other night, I walked into my daughter’s room to find her crying in bed. It crushed me to see her this way, especially because she’s always been my happy-go-lucky child. Out of my four kids, she was the one constantly who radiated joy. Shy around adults and strangers, yes, but once she got to know someone, she was talkative, giggly, and downright effervescent. Even as a baby, she rarely cried. I could pass her to anyone, and she’d flash her gummy smile and babble up a storm.
I never expected her to face depression, but here we are. It started for me at her age, then for my son, then my older daughter. Now it’s her turn, and my heart feels heavy under the weight of it.
This night, though, was different. It wasn’t just depression. She was sobbing so hard her little body shook the bed. I asked her what was wrong. Through her tears, she explained that a girl in her friend group—a girl who can be catty—had a birthday party. She invited every girl in the group except for my daughter.
As a parent, I can’t fathom excluding one child like that. Last year, my daughter faced a similar dilemma. Two of her friends weren’t getting along, and both told her they wouldn’t attend her party if the other was invited. Upset, she came to me for advice. I told her she had two choices: invite everyone or keep it small by inviting only her three closest friends. Ultimately, she decided not to have a party at all. When my husband and I asked if she was sure, she never wavered. Her reasoning? She didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.
So, to see her excluded like this, seemed cruel. The girl’s family moved to our area a couple of years ago. Her mom quickly became friends with many of my friends, though I never got close to her. Part of that is on me. Around the time they moved here, my depression and anxiety worsened. Later, I learned I’m on the autism spectrum, and I began prioritizing solitude to manage my nervous system. I pulled back from social interactions, including church, where this woman connected with my friends.
I’ve always found her a bit… off. She’s all smiles and compliments in public, but there have been several times I’ve tried to say hello at a store or event, and she’s walked right past me. Maybe she’s just unobservant or in a hurry, but it feels insincere. She’s one of those people who talks a lot about faith but doesn’t seem to back it up with actions. Of course, this could all be in my head, but I digress.
Back to my daughter. Last year, she had an incident that still stings. She left a cookie, some clothes, and a pile of papers in her locker, and by the end of the school year, the mess was crawling with silverfish. She was mortified. That same girl who excluded her from the birthday party took the opportunity to spread rumors, telling everyone my daughter brought bugs to school and claiming our house was infested. My daughter was humiliated.
For the record, we’ve had our share of ants and fruit flies over the years, but I’d never even seen a silverfish before. I had to look them up. This girl has never been to our house, so her claims were baseless and designed purely to upset my daughter.
Now, months later, every girl in the friend group was invited to this party—except my kid. I could care less about the party itself, but seeing my daughter’s feelings hurt is another story. I comforted her as best I could but ultimately told her that these things happen in life. It’s not worth her tears.
I didn’t want to give her such harsh advice, but the truth is, the sooner she learns to navigate these emotions, the stronger she’ll be when these situations arise again—and they will. Life is full of disappointments and unkind people, but resilience is a skill she’ll need for the rest of her life.
Watching her go through this has been heartbreaking, but I’m proud of the person she is. She’s kind, empathetic, and learning to handle life’s challenges with grace. As her mom, I’ll always be here to help her pick up the pieces and remind her of her worth.
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Tirzah (The Sensitive Artist)
You are such a fine mom!
I too live with depression (plus a couple other psych issues). A parent like you can help a loving, sensitive kid with the massive challenge of self-love.
You are blessed to have each other. 🩵💙💛
Kids can be so mean. Every little thing they notice and make fun of. Life is long though and this is just an opportunity for her to gain strength through this pain. Easy to say as an older adult, but it will get better and she will get stronger.