My oldest daughter was not a cuddly child in her first four years of life. She wanted her space, and we learned to give it to her. At some point, however, she’s changed her mind on all things physical touch. These days, she cannot get close enough to me, her dad, or her sister. She leeches on to us any moment she can and holds on tight. Her younger sister has (mostly) learned how to more politely ask for space—“I don’t want to be touched right now”—to which Evelyn takes great offense.
Some days, I very much relate to Evie’s little sister. I get tired and overstimulated, and I just don’t want to be touched right now! But here’s my five-year-old scooting in as close to me as possible, her fingers with the chipped purple nail polish gripping me tight. I put my arm around her and adjust to let her leech on in a way that’s most comfortable for us both. I embrace her tightly because here she is, already embracing me.
It’s no secret that life is ever-changing. In fact, the older I get, the more I recognize change trying to scoot in close and leech on to me, ensuring that I’m aware of her constant presence. Most of us say we dislike and struggle with change, which I’m finding is usually the truth when it’s a change that makes us uncomfortable.
We seem to celebrate the changes we expect or desire. It’s good, normal, and healthy when a child can dress herself or transitions out of diapers to using the toilet. Most parents welcome that independence and are relieved to see their children hitting age appropriate markers. My kids are now retrieving their own snacks out of the refrigerator, significantly decreasing the number of times I have to get out of my chair in one night. Scoot on in, Change! Cuddle up close. This feels fantastic!
Many changes, like those of a growing child, are welcomed, celebrated, and even rewarded. But then there are changes that make us want to scream in the face of what’s shifting: “Back off, I don’t want to be touched by change right now!”
I’ve become quite familiar with this response to change through my own evolution as an adult. We can often feel like we age out of the time when personal growth is celebrated and suddenly “You’ve changed…” seems to be spoken with disdain rather than admiration. It’s worth noting that I completely understand the disdain because I can easily feel it with people in my own life. I don’t want to be anywhere near change that feels uncomfortable, scary, or unknown. I want everyone I know to stay as they are, unless the changes they are making to their politics, religious beliefs, personal relationships, geographic location, career aspirations, time management, etc., align with my comfortable level. That, however, sounds like the world my children create when they play with their Barbie dolls, completely in control of everything each character does. It does sound nice, but that’s not real life.
The worlds we create in our imagination usually don’t involve the unwanted changes that we are faced with in reality.
Change happens, literally all the time. Even the amount of daylight today is different from yesterday. I know that, very soon, many of the changes I experience in my children will feel less celebratory and more bittersweet. I also know that I cannot stop change, and I imagine the more that I try to stop it and keep everything the same, the less I will get to experience the goodness on the other side of the change.
Much like my daughter’s ever-present embrace, I am choosing to embrace change because it is already embracing me. Whether I like it or not, people, relationships, circumstances, and seasons all shift over time—and they should. To never stop growing as people—emotionally, spiritually, physically—means to never stop embracing change. May we be people who celebrate the changes in others, even if it’s not how we would have orchestrated it in Barbie Land.
Do you feel that, scooting right up next to you, asking to be acknowledged and accepted? That’s called change. Sometimes it’s too much—we’re overstimulated, overwhelmed, exhausted, and uncertain. And sometimes it’s easy—we get to sit back in our chair just a little bit longer. Either way, it’s not going anywhere. Go ahead and embrace it—because it’s embracing you.
Mallory Redmond embraces anomalies—she is an adventure-loving homebody who keeps a clean house yet always makes a mess while eating or brushing her teeth. She loves dry humor, clean sheets, and gathering around the table with friends. Mallory has two daughters, Evelyn and Annie, who are raising her as much as she is raising them. She uses writing as a way to tell stories that surface the places of connection in our humanity.
I believe the changes that constantly come in our mothering journeys are some of the most profound, humbling, difficult, and beautiful changes possible. Thank you for this reminder to embrace it all!