By Kelly Meyers
We all have her living inside us—the teeth-gnashing, roaring, fiercely loyal and protective Mama Bear. For some, she simmers right at the surface, quick to jump in your face. For others, she’s a bit deeper, hidden behind a shrug and a smile.
My youngest daughter has a birthmark on her face. It’s something we’ve been dealing with since her birth. We’ve had varying comments from “OH! Did she fall down the stairs/off the changing table?” (no) to “it’ll go away when she gets older” (also no). More recently, most adults ask if she colored on her face with a marker, and children ask if she has a boo-boo. This opens the door for me to educate them about her birthmark. And I do. But kids can be mean.
Recently, we were at the playground with a toddler friend and her mama. There were some older girls there, probably 4 and 6. The big girls came over to play with our littles, and we stayed close. My daughter’s friend is more outgoing, so they engaged with her first, and then my daughter worked up the nerve to go over and play too. The oldest girl took one look at my daughter, then a closer look, and said “Ew. I like this one (indicating our little friend) better.” And turned her back on my daughter.
I froze, horrified and hurt. I’d like to tell you I tapped my inner Mama Bear. That I roared and flew to my daughter’s side, putting the older child in her place. That I was my daughter’s champion, her fighter, her defender, her Mama Bear. Instead, after a few deep breaths and a quiet suggestion from my friend, I tapped my inner Mama Cat, grabbed my little one by the scruff of the neck and scampered off to find a dark corner of the attic to hold her close and purr. As we made our hasty exit, I was fuming. Fuming at the young girl for being so quick to judge and dismiss based on looks. Fuming at her parents for raising a child who thinks it is okay to do so. But mostly, fuming at myself.
My daughter’s face is not going to change anytime soon, and I pay a lot of lip service to raising her to be strong and confident regardless of her differences. But when push came to shove, I failed her. Now, I know at her young age, she probably had no idea what the girl said or what it meant. But it won’t be long before she does understand, and I can’t change the generally accepted belief that different is somehow lesser, or undesirable. I wonder how I will teach her she is just as good as everyone else if I struggle to step up and show her the right words, the right response. We all know actions speak louder than words, but I still have that little girl’s hurtful words rushing through my ears: and the shame of my response rushing through my heart.
So, I have new resolve to do better next time: to set a better example, to pull strength from my inner Mama Bear. To do it for my daughter, so when she’s standing on the playground alone, she can think of me, her Mama Bear, and stand tall.
Kelly Meyers is a part-time registered nurse, part-time stay-at-home-mama, part-time photographer, and part-time writer. She is full-time exhausted.
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Your girl is gorgeous
I wish you great success in tapping into that mama bear. Sometimes she’s crazy though… maybe a combo of cat & bear would be the most ideal? My youngest had a large red raised birthmark on his neck. Bright strawberry red. He’s five & it’s since fade away to nearly nothing….. but it got a lot of comments and looks in those early years. The most common “he’s got something stuck on him,” and I’d reply “nope, it’s his.”
Thanks Stephinie! I don’t think I could ever be fully “Mama Bear” – I talk a big game with my friends, but confrontation is not my thing! My ideal is just to channel enough Mama Bear to set a good example for my daughter, and to give her the words I keep struggling so much to find.
great post….. and welcome to mamalode!
Elke
Publisher, Mamalode
Thanks Elke! Thank YOU to Mamalode for inspiring me to keep writing!
This is a great post about some really complicated, hard emotions!! All Mamas (and Daddys too I bet) can relate to the overwhelming mix of protect/attack/defend/curl-up-and-cry that comes when our child’s being and a harsh world collide. Your daughter is lucky to have such an honest and authentic and loving Mama.
-Grace
Grace, thank you. And I’d take “honest and authentic” over “in your face and aggressive” any day
Thanks for the awesome compliment!
Beautiful post. I can see your daughter in a few years hearing some comment and saying, ‘it’s just my birthmark, silly”. Our daughter had a strawberry hemangioma on her backside…like her WHOLE butt cheek. It, too, faded, but we got looks from relatives and daycare providers about it, like we bruised her. So infuriating, but calm education is the way to go in the long run. If parents are there you can give the explanation to the kiddo but within earshot of the parent and hopefully they’ll get the message. Love the pic
Hang in there, fellow mama bear!
Hi Maureen,
Isn’t it so true that we often over- think things as adults? My older daughter has no trouble at all piping up to explain to everyone about the birthmark – and in a lovely and gracious way. And me? I freeze and run. Glad to hear that through your infuriation, you were still able to provide calm education – that is what I aspire to!
Wow! I have a lot to say about this! First of all, I enjoyed your writing and your daughter is beautiful.
I have found that my inner mama bear has reared her angry head a few times over the years but I have refrained from lashing out at either the offending children or their parents- even though I may have really wanted to!
My daughters do not have anything outwardly visible to distinguish them from any other little girl on the playground, but there are still a lot of mean, nasty kids out there. Several times the older one (almost four) has come running over in tears when another child has refused to play with her. I tell her the same thing every time it happens:
There are a lot of mean people in this world but there are also a lot of nice people in this world. When you meet someone who doesn’t want to be your friend, it is no big deal because there is surely someone else on the playground who would love to play with you and it is your mission to find him/her.
Lastly, when we see someone who is visually “different” I try to pull my daughter aside and remind her that everyone is the same on the inside and we all look different on the outside. Sometimes the conversation is long and involved but most of the time it is brief. We recently saw a little person at the mall and she had a hard time not staring and pointing. I sat with her for a bit and explained that he was just shorter than his friends and nothing was wrong with him. I told her that he probably enjoyed pancakes for breakfast just like she did and he probably had a mom and dad who loved him just like she did. I like to explain it by referencing hair color. Her hair is red, hers is brown. Is it better to have brown hair or red hair? Neither. We are all the same on the inside.
I hope that your daughter comes to realize that there are just as many nice people as there are mean people in this world.
Melissa, your daughters are lucky to have such an awesome, grounded mama. I love that you take the time to explain to your daughters about differences – these are the lessons that are most important, teaching to be a good person. It is hard though, when even if you are fully surrounded by nice people, it’s the one mean person who can cut you to the quick and make you insecure. I want my daughter to be a strong, confident person – which is a challenge as I am learning to be strong and confident right along with her. Of course, I couldn’t think of a better reason to step up my game and set that example.
I am so thankful to mothers like you, who are also proactive about teaching them to be strong, confident, and KIND. I know they will be shining examples of how to treat others, and the exact type of friends I hope my daughter will find.
Kelly, your daughter is beautiful. Kids can be so mean and adults too. My daughter’s eyes are two different colors. They are amazing and perfect just the way they are. I want her to grow up knowing that too. It’s hard to get the balance right, I had instances when family members have said something along the lines of ‘don’t worry they will change and she will be perfect’. I want to scream that I am not worried and that she is perfect already but I don’t because I don’t want to offend anyone! How silly is that?! I also need to tap into my inner mama bear!
Hi Louise – it’s frustrating, isn’t it, when others insinuate that our children are any less than perfect? We each have a road to travel, a cross to bear, and without differences, it would be a sad and boring world. (See how I can come up with all this stuff sitting in my chair, but a six year old’s comments can make me flee the playground? UGH). I am hoping that next time, I have the clarity to respond to the “it’ll go away/change/disappear” comments with some version of “I hope not! I love that she is different and special!”
One really good book (that is about birthmarks, but still, a great book) is Bobby Booby’s Birthmark – written by a boy with a birthmark, about accepting and embracing who we are.
Everything about your daughter seems so beautiful, kids can be mean and adults can be far worse. I’ve had so many comments on Gia, picking up on her “different” hands,facal features, hearing aids, size… you name it. Not sure why people even need to point it out… Anyway, I usually do as you do and take the opportunity to educate. But sometimes it is a little upsetting and I actually dread as Gia gets older. Wish I had an answer or better advice, for me I just need thicker skin. Ill get there, I’m sure.
Hi Daria,
I tend to agree – everything about all of our children is beautiful
It is so frustrating and sad that people cannot see past the outward differences – mostly adults. And I know people are just curious, but it is hard when you want your child to just be seen as your child, not as a curiosity.
I’d like to think that our skin toughens over time, as I’d rather portray a thick skinned confidence than a reactionary Mama Bear, but I’m not there yet either.
PS – are you Daria and Gia from An Unexpected Path? I love the pieces you have written!!
Hi Kelly, I read an article of yours awhile ago and am so glad you are back on Mamalode. My daughter, Zoe- 17 months, was born with port wine stains all over her face… in the “bearded region”. Luckily, she was born near San Francisco and we were able to meet with some of the best doctors. We started laser treatments early. It was horrible. When my husband was going to be changing jobs we decided to settle near Boston so that Zoe could have whatever treatment she might need. We have just recently moved to Maine (closest place my husband could find a job) and are getting ready to revisit treatments. I am so glad to have found you on here. I have felt extremely alone in my short time dealing with this “issue” and have cried more tears over what her future might be. I would love to chat more if possible. Do you have an email I could contact you on? Thank you so much for bringing light to this and for giving me someone I can finally connect with…if even on the internet. Amanda:)
Hi Amanda – Sorry it took me a few days to check back and see that I had more comments! Welcome to the east coast! Please please PLEASE, let’s chat. We did some laser treatments up here, so I’d love to chat with you about that – it was an overwhelmingly positive experience, as scary as it was. It can be such a tough road to navigate; relocating, medical treatments, and everything else that comes with having a toddler!
My email is kelly.g.meyers@gmail.com – please, let’s connect.
-Kelly
Good job, Kell – Gdad