Here is a list of some of the labels I was given as a child:
Hates All Sports.
Messy and Disorganized.
Doesn’t Play Well with Others.
It took time (decades, in some cases), but I’ve outgrown every one of those. (You’re still welcome to use stubborn, impulsive and loud-mouthed, however). I’m a foodie, an athlete, a hockey fan, and a reliable worker who never misses a deadline.
But when my parents are around, those old identities haunt me.
As it happens, my parents aren’t intentionally pushing me back into my childhood roles. But, many of us ‘supposed’ grown-ups do feel pressure, especially around the holidays, to take up their place once again as middle child, mom’s favorite, rebel-who-doesn’t-eat-salad.
We resent it when family labels define us, but here’s the real kicker: many of us don’t see the ways we label and limit our own kids.
Read the rest in Better Humans: click here.