Insight of a Father - 1/27/07
Several days ago Bryana, now age 5, asked if she could have a glass of a special drink that, while tasty, we like to drink in small quantities. I knew that my wife had already given her a glass, so asked, somewhat accusatorily, what had happened to her first glass.
She replied that Baba (her Bulgarian grandmother who lives with us) had drank it. With a little minor investigation, I found that she had lied and so asked her directly if she had told me the truth .... at which time she got upset and started crying.
Once she calmed down a bit, she shared with me, "sometimes it's hard to tell the truth."
As I thought about what she said and what had transpired, I began to realize that I had played a large part in her not being honest with me.
I considered how my accusatory tone likely had her feeling as if her request, or even her natural desire to have more of something that tasted good, was somehow wrong or inappropriate. She already felt trapped. She clearly wanted something that was drawing a negative reaction on the part of her father. She could either be honest that she had, in fact, already drank her drink, feel bad about making the request and most likely not get what she wanted .... or .... she could withdraw her request and act like she never wanted it in the first place (as my older daughter, unfortunately, has learned to do to avoid disappointment and judgment from her parents) .... or .... she could come up with a story that might get her through unscathed.
She chose a story .... probably much like I did at that age (and sometimes still do), because it represented the least painful option in the moment.
Not because she wanted to lie, but because I was more concerned with keeping some rule or needing to maintain a sense of control than giving my daughter the space to have her desires, choose freely and communicate openly and honestly.
It was me who was out of integrity and, to my credit, I told my daughter so ... and told her I was sorry ....
.... and it is me, not my daughter, who still, more often than I care to acknowledge, chooses a story to avoid the of pain of disapproval rather than being true to myself ....
Michael Connor