Don’t Worry, Mom!

When my daughter, Haley, tells me not to worry, I think it means I should worry.

I love that she can tell me anything.   I’m glad I know what she’s doing, don’t have to wonder, and don’t need to worry that I can’t trust her.

At the same time, it’s not always easy to hear what she tells me.  

For example, when she called me the night after she had sex for the first time.  

“Great,”  I said, trying to keep the shock from my voice.  “Do I really want to know this,” I wondered silently.

I was externally calm.  I listened, made sure she had safe sex and made sure she was ok.  But I have to admit that it took me a little while to calm down after we hung up.  It just wasn’t that easy to hear that my little girl had “done that.”

Today when Haley told me what she had done I did not react so well.  Since I’m sworn to secrecy, I can’t tell you what it was.  Suffice it to say if your child told you about it, you’d be concerned.

Haley has been in Australia since July.  I have been handling it very well.  I prayed to God to keep her safe and that she would be returned to me in great shape.  

Today I decided it’s time to come home.  

“I’m changing your flight to tomorrow,”  I said.  “It’s enough.”

“Don’t worry, Mom.”  Haley said.  “I’ll be fine.”

I just starting crying.  “I just want you to be safe.  I just want to hug you.  Please come back.”

“I’ll be home soon,”  she said.  “You can trust me.  You raised me well.  You are my best person in the whole world.  I love you.”

What could be better than your child saying that?  Not much.   Haley is a smart girl and I want to assume she has good judgment.  I just don’t want to be wrong about that.  Some mistakes you can not recover from I told Haley today.

“Don’t worry, mom,”  she kept repeating.  

I can see that my upset is based on the following assumption:  you become like the people you are hanging out with.  I don’t like what her friends are doing “down under.”  She has two more weeks under that influence.  These people are her “family” she says.  OMG.  That doesn’t make me feel better. 

But I can give up my story.  I can trust her.  I can trust God.  I can have faith that my little girl can make smart, safe decisions.  

And, after one more short cry, I will connect to my source, spirit, joy, or whatever reaches my heart instead of my head.  I can’t do it right now, but after indulging in my fear/self-pity/story for just a little while longer, I will.  

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OK.  I feel better.  I am letting it go.  I am going to trust the universe and focus on my “desires”.  I am a best-selling author and speaker travelling the world first class with the love of my life.  He is a great man who fell into my lap and with fun play and ease we are creating a wonderful life where my fantasy life equals my real life.  I am enjoying an abundance of love, fun, money, passion, and following my purpose.  I am letting go of having to know how and trusting the flow of life.  

OK.  That sounds better than expecting the worst disaster possible and on some strange level wanting to be right about it so I can suffer.  I am giving that one up again (not the first time).   

Thank you for listening.