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Mia Milne's avatar

So one of my best friends from high school is someone who transitioned from acquaintance to close friend because I decided to be vulnerable about some problems happening in my family. My willingness to open up made her feel comfortable telling me about the abuse happening in her home, which she'd never told anyone else about. It taught me that asking for help often makes it easier for others to ask for help.

It's hard sometimes to know when sharing things or asking for assistance will cross a line, but I worry that cultural norms are setting that line much higher than it needs to be.

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Lisa Sibbett's avatar

Mia, you have put your finger on something I’ve been struggling to articulate: our cultural norms establish overly-strict barriers to intimacy. There are so many conversations we COULD have that might lead to connections like the early one with your friend that you’ve just shared, if only we’re willing to be a bit brave like you were.

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Evangeline Garreau's avatar

I’m obsessssssssed with the word “kinward” and I love all your reflections on the way pockets of intimacy can sometimes open up unexpectedly. Will be mulling this for some time!

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Lisa Sibbett's avatar

Thank you, Evangeline!

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Evangeline Garreau's avatar

I was thinking of this essay again today when I was at my community singing circle (already an incredibly wholesome place) and I watched a woman tuck the shirt tag of the woman in front of her back into her collar. The woman with the tag out thanked her over her shoulder. They had not come in together and I doubt they knew each others’ name. There’s something here specifically about the brief moments of kinship among women helping each other with clothing. Obviously your experience with the bra was an extreme version, but I have had so many sweet family moments with strange women discreetly letting me know my spanx were showing or my menstrual pad was leaking. I’m wondering what makes these moments of intimacy feel more accessible and how we can grow that impulse.

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Lisa Sibbett's avatar

Wow, these are such good examples. I know I’m going to keep thinking about these!

It feels like there’s just something about the shared experience of being women, and maybe particularly in women-dominated spaces (if your singing circle is like most I’ve seen might, is it like 75% women?)

Also, I’m so envious of your singing circle! I’ve looked for community choirs in my city, but they’re mostly on the other side of town in the evenings, and it’s hard for me to get out of the house in the evenings. This is making me want to renew my efforts — or maybe just start one of my own!

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Evangeline Garreau's avatar

Lol yes my song circle is like 95% women. And I agree, there is something about tending to other women in a women-centric space that feels more naturally intimate than other interactions.

I hope you’re able to find or start a song circle that works for you! I’m lucky that mine is on Saturday afternoons. If you decide to start your own, I highly recommend this book: https://www.centerforbelonging.earth/store/p/song-carrier-toolkit

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Lisa Sibbett's avatar

Yesssss! Thank you!

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LK's avatar

Evangeline, reading your comment made me remember all the times women (strangers!) have helped me out with some article of clothing in public (underwear tucked into skirt 🫢) or handing off a tampon to another woman in a public restroom. These little moments of intimacy can be so meaningful, quick, and heartfelt!

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Mari, the Happy Wanderer's avatar

The story about the lady at the pool is so lovely, and reminds me of a similar personal experience from a few years back. Our daughter, Casey’s, school had Ski Friday for seven weeks every winter (we live in Switzerland, so this is very on-brand). All the kids rode the train to a ski resort for a day of lessons and skiing. All except Casey, that is, because she is disabled. (She has a congenital form of muscular dystrophy.) For the reasons you describe, Casey loves being in the water. In the water she feels free and more able to move than she can manage on land.

The school recommended a local pool, where we went once a week. So there was 15-year-old American Casey, with a bunch of elderly Swiss ladies who were swimming at the same time. I wasn’t allowed in the pool area, but the Swiss ladies kept an eye on Casey as she swam, and at the end of her hour every week, as I waited outside the locker room, the ladies would come out and let me know that Casey was almost ready, and that she had done a great job swimming. I was so touched by their care for her.

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Lisa Sibbett's avatar

This is such a wonderful story! I could not love it more. Does Casey still get to go to the pool?

I had a very close cousin who had muscular dystrophy, so it’s a condition and community that’s very close to my heart. Love to you and yours, Mari.

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Mari, the Happy Wanderer's avatar

Oh, thank you for these kind words! Casey hasn’t been able to swim at her college, but I’m about to head to the US to help her find an apartment near her new job after she graduates, and she is looking at places that have a pool so she can start swimming again. 😊

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Lisa Sibbett's avatar

Oh, I wish you both all the best! I do sure hope she can find somewhere not only with a pool but also with a great community of people who "get it."

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Cece's avatar

"move our relationships kinward": I love that!

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Beth's avatar

I love the word kinward! "Turning kinward" is a simple and elegant phrase to help me remember to look for these opportunities and its especially elegant in how it serves as the opposite to turning inward.

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Lisa Sibbett's avatar

Ooooh I had not thought of kinward as an analog to inward but you’re SO RIGHT. It makes me think about how there’s a lot of talk these days about shifting from self-care to community care. Same idea!

I’m making a note to credit you when I talk about this in my book. :)

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Emily GreenPurpleFireDragon's avatar

I would say: I don’t buy (give) people presents. So they know it’s not just how I treat a special category of people (kids), but all people.

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Beth's avatar

And maybe even something like, "I give people my time instead of presents," to help articulate how there are non-tangible gifts (that you are especially good at giving!) My Dad had a piece of paper tacked to the bulletin board when I was a kid that said "your children need your presence more than your presents", and it sunk in for me at a young age.

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Emily GreenPurpleFireDragon's avatar

It occurred to me since reading the post that even those of us who don’t give presents for the usual occasions probably still participate in gift-giving also beyond spending time: who pays when you go to a restaurant or who buys the food when you invite people for dinner?

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Lisa Sibbett's avatar

This is a great point. I do actually buy food for people all the time! I never think of that as a gift but you’re totally right that it is. ❤️

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Sadye Scott-Hainchek's avatar

I *know* that the kids I mentor need my presence far more than my presents (though, yes, sometimes my presence takes the form of paying for us to do an activity), and someday they will understand the difference, but impatient and novice Auntie Sadye wishes they would catch on sooner ;)

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Lisa Sibbett's avatar

Good call!

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Sadye Scott-Hainchek's avatar

I LOVE aqua aerobics! During the summer especially, when it's one particular (awesome) instructor at our city's outdoor pool, versus a rotation at the indoor pool, I also get to enjoy that casual bond of frequently-seeing you describe, too.

One question about stating your preferences: the "niblings" I have are in a bit of a repeated "why?" phase when they don't like my answers LOL. It's helpful when the oldest of them will automatically fill in "because the sky's too high" (apparently the latest comeback), but I'm open to hearing how others handle it.

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Lisa Sibbett's avatar

Water aerobics: if you know you know!!

With the repeated “why” questions, an old teacher trick is to turn it back on them: “What do you think? What’s your guess?” Kids who aren’t used to this will want you to answer for them but if you keep at it and help them practice coming up with explanations, they’ll gain confidence. (And, in case you care about this kind of thing, they’ll also do better on standardized tests and in school generally).

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Evangeline Garreau's avatar

I would add something I was thinking about while reading the essay: it’s also good for them to know we don’t always need a reason for our preferences — especially when it comes to “no” answers. I was imagining a version of the Lisa/niece conversation that might go like this:

“Why won’t you buy this for me?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Why don’t you want to?”

“We don’t always need reasons for why we say no. Sometimes we just have to accept that it’s a no.”

In this imaginary conversation, the next “why” would invite me to get on my soapbox about consent and boundaries and how “no” makes way for “yes” and I imagine at this point the kid would have long since wandered off but if they stuck around for some reason maybe it would be a fruitful conversation! Or maybe it would just give them ammo the next time their dad asks them to brush their teeth 🙃.

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Lisa Sibbett's avatar

I think “because I don’t want to” can be such a powerful statement — to kids and grown-ups too, really. It’s such a powerful way to help kids understand that consent does matter. And I too would be tempted to get on my soapbox and explain it, and the kids would wander off! Lol

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Lacey Louwagie's avatar

I love your reminder that it's OK for us to tell kids our preferences rather than make the ENDLESS excuses (that they can always find a way to counter!) This idea occurred to me in a Eureka moment when my second-born was an infant, my first-born was three, and we were all confined to the house for weeks and months during the height of the pandemic. I was so tapped out ALL THE TIME and I thought, perhaps it would be reasonable to ONLY play with my three-year-old in the ways I *liked* to play (building, reading stories, coloring, etc. -- basically anything except pretend!) This felt both revolutionary and like a betrayal of him, who was already losing so much of my attention! Something I learned to implement with my second-born was a 10-minute timer. So now I say, "I'll play with you for 10 minutes, but then Mommy needs to get work done." Usually after those 10 minutes the child is engaged enough to keep playing on his own; and if I'm engaging in an activity I enjoy, I can skip the timer. I still think being clearer with my preferences is a good idea and better for our relationship overall. Luckily now the infant is big enough to play with his brother and they can play pretend together. Such a relief!

I, too, have found a quasi-community at the community pool. I have migraine disease that fluctuates between being chronic and episodic, and lately I've found that I rarely need to take pain meds on the days that I visit the pool. I'm one of the rare SAHMs in my state, so I'm always there during preschool hours when other people my age are at work, so I've built a loose community with a bunch of retired women! I take it as a valuable opportunity to get a glimpse about what the next stage in life might bring, much the way I surreptitiously watched parents before I had kids.

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Lisa Sibbett's avatar

It felt like a total eureka for me as well, Lacey! It's nuts how counterintuitive it is to just SAY WHAT WE NEED to children.

I think the 10 minute timer idea is pretty genius. Somehow I find that kids respond a lot better to an alarm going off after 10 minutes than to me saying, "okay, that's 10 minutes!" It's like the timer has some inarguable authority that I do not have. But I'm cool with it -- timer it is! (When I remember).

I'm so glad you get to the go the pool and hang with the elder women -- yay! And I'm so sorry you have chronic migraines. What a nightmare, especially with small kids. It's wonderful that going to the pool seems to help -- what do you attribute that to?

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Lacey Louwagie's avatar

I think the timer has the authority of being an "objective" counter of the time. Perhaps kids can sense our own reluctance and have more trouble believing we're telling the truth when we say time's up. If they can hear the timer dinging, that's that! (And of course, I've never abused my timer privilege by setting it for a time other than what I've promised -- I think the idea that the adult could tamper with the timer doesn't cross their minds.)

A combination of medications and lifestyle modifications have made my migraines mostly episodic and much less disruptive than they used to be, thank goodness. I think I rarely get them on pool days because muscle tightness in my neck and back is pretty chronic, either resulting from or causing some of my migraine attacks (it's really hard to know which causes which). Being in the water "loosens me up," plus I make sure to drink TONS of water on those days. I used to think I was just less likely to have pain on those days because I had more quiet time to myself (preschool), but I find that I don't have the same result on preschool days when I skip the pool. At $6 per visit, it's really the cheapest body work I do for pain management! (Acupuncture - $50 session, massage, $100 a session, etc.)

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Lisa Sibbett's avatar

Your timer hypothesis makes total sense to me, Lacey. I think you're right.

Visiting the pool is also by far the cheapest -- and most effective! -- thing I do for pain management. It's a miracle cure (however temporary) with a side order of civic participation. I could not love it more.

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Star-Crowned Ariadne's avatar

Telling kids what we want is definitely something we can do more. My husband has a habit of reacting with a lot of annoyance with repeatedly confronted with “I WANT I WANT I WANT”. Especially if it interferes with a crucial part of the family routine. He’s taken to saying “it doesn’t matter what you want. You can’t go to the playground. It’s dinner time.” Maybe he should have said: “It’s dinner time. All of us want dinner. I want dinner. Your sister wants dinner. And if we go to the playground, we can’t have dinner.” I do think kids respond to statements of “I want” better than reasoning, just because the former is relatable and the latter is not. If my child and I are having TV time, if I say “ok, you can watch this video, but after that I want to choose the next video”, we don’t end up watching cartoons the whole time.

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Lisa Sibbett's avatar

These are such great examples, Ariadne. I totally agree that it would probably help your husband a lot to just say, "we're not going to the playground because I'm hungry and it's time for us to eat dinner."

I was thinking more about why this approach tends to work better today and I came to the same conclusion you did: "wants" are just pretty straightforward for kids to understand. They seem a lot less arbitrary than whatever our random adult reasons may be.

I love: "I want to choose the next video." I'm going to try this too!

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Sally Ekus's avatar

I absolutely love the way you think about the world and share it with the rest of us.

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Lisa Sibbett's avatar

Thank you so much, Sally! I’m so glad you’re here. ❤️

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Rebecca Broad's avatar

I love how you’ve dissected the reasons and buildup to being able to offer those explanations, and that care. Thank you! Happy to join as a paid subscriber.

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Lisa Sibbett's avatar

Thank you so much for being here, Rebecca!

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Bernard Soubry's avatar

Happy birthday, Lisa! And yes, I heartily agree--it's when we show kinship to others that the bonds of kinship get formed.

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