Tender

When I was a kid, I was once described by my mom as "tender-hearted." I don't remember where or why she said it, but the phrase always stuck with me. As I grew older, I learned that the world had another name for it: sap. There are considerably more negative connotations with the word "sap"; however, I embraced it and considered it one of my many flaws. I tried to laugh away how I cry at so many things (ASPCA commercials, Bambi, Dumbo, basically every Disney and Hallmark movie, the list goes on and on).

Then I had a daughter; that didn't fix my sappiness. If anything, it increased. It had this whole new world of motherhood to tap into. But here's the thing about my daughter (well, I actually have two, but it's the one daughter I want to focus on right now), I see her tender heart. I understand her tender-heartedness. It is not a flaw. I understand it now, and I'm terrified. The world will tell her that she needs to be hard. That her tenderness is a flaw. The world will show her that strength is hard and tenderness is the same as weakness. It will teach her that, especially as a woman, she must be strong; tenderness is weak. I know these things because I've seen them and felt them. But they aren't what scare me. The world is a hard and mean place. I know it will try to change her. What I'm scared of is ruining her tenderness before the world even lays a finger on her.

I worry that my overly-tired self will snap one too many times, and teach her to be hard. I'm worried that my too-easy-to-flare-temper will scare her into hardness. I worry that I will ruin her. I worry that she will learn hardness from me. That she, too, will one day label herself "sap," consider it a flaw, and laugh at it with the world. I worry that she won't see her tenderness for the strength that it is.

I pray for my sweet girl that her heart will stay tender. That she will forever be gentle. That she will forever be soft.

I read once that the world has enough hard women. I believe this to be true. There is not enough tenderness in this world; however, I live with some in my home. I hope I can protect it, so that someday she might be able to bring more tenderness to this world and help it embrace soft, and gentle, help it to see tenderness as strength. I hope to protect her so that she might help save us all. I know she's already saving me from hardness.