For some time now, I have been asking the Lord about some roots that have taken place in my life. I've been trying to figure out why I behave in certain ways, and why I think the way I think. Some of those roots are quite unhealthy, namely my not-so-stellar track record in the dating/relationship department. All of the men I have been in serious relationships with have had one thing in common. They would tell me they loved me, cared about me, didn't want to hurt me, etc., but then they would act in ways that were definitely not loving, and sometimes not even kind. I stuck around in each relationship far beyond what any emotionally healthy person would or should. I would get hurt by their actions, confront them, then they would apologize, profess their love, and we would make up. I believed their words, and I refused to believe their actions. Obviously, I was the common denominator in these relationships, but in the two years since my divorce, I've been searching for the root of why I would stick around in these unhealthy relationships.
The other day while I was talking to Mikayla, God seriously hit me up the side of the head with a truth so real that I was left speechless.
"Mommy?" Mikayla's sweet voice asked as we drove in the car.
"Yes, my love?" I responded.
"Dylan is really mean to me," she confided in me.
"Oh, honey! I am so sorry he is mean to you. What does he say to you that is mean?"
"He tells me that I'm ugly and no one wants to be my friend," her sadness was evident as tears welled up in her eyes.
"Oh, honey, You know that you're not ugly, and did you know that most boys say mean things to girls because they secretly like them?" I comforted her.
And there is was. I was stopped in my tracks. That - right there - was the lie I believed my entire life: Boys who are mean to you secretly like you.
My mind raced as I thought about all the boys who were mean to me since I was five years old. Every time I would come home crying because some boy made fun of me or teased me or pulled my pony tail, my mom would comfort me and tell me that it was because they thought I was beautiful, or they had a crush on me, or they liked me and didn't know how to show their true feelings. Obviously, I release my mother from any responsibility, because she was doing what any mother would do: comfort her crying and hurt daughter the best way she knows how. And she wasn't the only one who unwittingly helped perpetuate this lie of the enemy. Teachers, school administrators, youth pastors, friends all have told me very similar things about boys who were mean to me growing up. I was even telling my own daughter the same thing.
But it's a lie! Boys are mean to girls because they don't know how to treat a girl. And perhaps they are just jerks. That's the bottom line. Boys aren't mean to girls because they like them, and they aren't mean to girls because they think they are pretty.
After realizing all of this, I thought about how this seemingly small "comforting" line that mothers across the globe tell their daughters is creating a foothold for the enemy to set up young girls for a string of failed relationships. Then I thought about how it applied to my life.
I believed the lie. I believed that a boy's actions don't matter. I believed that if a boy was mean to me, that meant he secretly liked me; he just didn't know how to express his true feelings. And it suddenly all made sense. It made sense why I stuck around. It made sense why I continually forgave and forgot their transgressions against me. It made sense why it was a continuous cycle. It made sense why I kept repeating the same mistake in each relationship. I thought their actions didn't matter. But they do.
"You know what, Honey?" I started to correct myself. "Some boys are just mean to girls, because they haven't been taught how to treat girls."
"Yeah," is all Mikayla replied.
"How do you think you could show Dylan some kindness tomorrow?"
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