Last weekend, I had a family and friends hangout that stretched for hours. Somewhere in the middle of it, a simple 20-minute conversation made me pause and reassess where my head has been lately.
My Worry
I’ve been worried about my little one in many ways, but most recently because… she talks. A lot. She starts, and before you know it, she just keeps going.
Most times, I find it funny and even enlightening. Other times, it can feel a bit much. My worry began after several “you talk too much” scolds from her dad and grandma. For reasons I couldn’t explain, I concluded it was a bad thing and even made it my next project to help her “tone it down.”
Normally, I’d turn to Google or ChatGPT for answers, but this time I didn’t. Instead, an unplanned conversation with a friend gave me the wake-up call I didn’t know I needed.
Growing Up
As an African child, many of us grew up with parents who, though loving, often stifled us in how they raised us. For me, it left a mark on my self-esteem.
My mom was so protective that it often felt suffocating. Everyone knew, and I was embarrassed. But with African parents, you didn’t express your feelings or opinions – it was almost as if you weren’t expected to have one. They were your gods after God Himself.
So I acted out – dating someone “unapproved,” keeping certain company – but it didn’t heal the cracks in my esteem. Instead, I retreated into the background and fell in love with being behind the scenes, running things quietly my way.
Even now, I can’t comfortably speak in front of an audience older than ten. Conversations with strangers make me either rush through my words or go quiet. If friends visit, I’m often out of words in ten minutes, secretly hoping something will cut the visit short before the silence gets awkward. Yet, on chat? I thrive. I’m self-conscious most of the time, and random questions can still make my brain freeze.
The Wake-Up Call
That conversation with my friend Bibi lifted a veil: our parents raised us the best way they knew how. Some of it helped, some of it hurt. Now, it’s up to us to keep what worked and let go of what didn’t.
She urged me to stand up for my child and let her be herself. That reminder hit home. Kids are meant to be nurtured, guided, and encouraged to grow into their best selves—not stifled.
And the truth is, I know this. I’ve preached this. I even relearned it while studying early childhood education. But somewhere along the line, I forgot to apply it at home.
Sweet Like Perfume
It’s true what the Bible says: “The pleasantness of a friend springs from their heartfelt advice” (Proverbs 27:9). Good company is invaluable – the kind that gently reminds you to be your best self and to raise the best in others. And that day, the reminder was as sweet as perfume.
“The heartfelt counsel of a friend is as sweet as perfume and incense.”
Proverbs 27:9 NLT
https://bible.com/bible/116/pro.27.9.NLT
Takeaway
That conversation shifted something in me: my child’s voice is not a problem to solve, but a gift to nurture. She talks because she has a voice—and it’s my job to make sure she never feels like she has to silence it.
And maybe, just maybe, in protecting her voice, I’ll fully heal and also find more of mine.
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