Last Updated On January 21, 2015
Spiderman
I remember thinking it would be so easy. I swore that when I had children of my own that I would buy just about anything so that they would never have to know what it feels like to be an outsider. I thought you could just buy popularity. As if somehow a pair of Guess jeans would have made me blonde, busty and so much to be fun around. In my adolescent mind it all made sense, and I skirted on the outside of the in crowd till I hit my twenties. Even then I had it confused and I had the credit card debt to prove it.
My whole life I just wanted to fit in and when I had kids I thought that with enough attention to detail (Like making them look like a Gap ad) I finally could be part of the masses. I never thought that they wouldn’t want to play that game.
Then kids came.
When my son was around two or 3 years old he began wearing an old worn out Spiderman costume everywhere we went. My husband was always slightly embarrassed, but this was nothing compared to dragging 2 screaming kids off a playground so I was fine with it. The fight to leave the house without it wasn’t worth the effort. He never wore the mask only the jumpsuit that had holes and a huge run as if he just split his pantyhose. I believe that stains were involved too. He was always friendly and full of life, that is until someone called him Spiderman. My husband would get very upset and scold him. “If you don’t want people calling you Spiderman why are you wearing this costume?” In his little voice he would cry an angry cry, “Because can’t they see my face? I’m not Spiderman!”
We finally convinced him that he needed to be polite or not wear the costume. He seemed confused, but went along with it because he really wanted to wear that outfit. He would smile and say hi then he would turn his head and I could see that the attention made him upset. I tried talking to him again and for a 3 year old he nailed it on the head. “Mom, I just want them to see me and call me by my name. It shouldn’t matter what clothes I’m wearing.” I was flooded by emotions. Of course guilt came first, what kind of lesson were we teaching him when we told him he needed to be polite or basically stop being himself to please someone else. Secondly, I wondered what marvelous soul landed in this tiny body that has been teaching me lessons since the moment he was conceived. Lastly, a wave of peace came over me that told me this kid was going to be alright no matter what life should throw at him. At 3 he had figured out what it takes most a lifetime to learn.
I proudly walked my “Spiderman” around town passed the kids that looked like they fell out of a Gap ad and past the snickering parents that thought I didn’t have my shit together. I even giggled a little inside at times as if I had a secret that I wasn’t sharing with anyone.
Somehow something better happened, something that I could have never imagined. He learned to be happy in his own skin. In turn I learned to be happy in my own skin, to laugh at myself, to be silly, and walk away from the jeers and stares without one ounce of regret.
The world still needs it’s superheroes, no matter what form they might take.
Find out more about Milena here: http://www.illuminousflux.com/?page_id=76
Last Updated On January 21, 2015
Spiderman
I remember thinking it would be so easy. I swore that when I had children of my own that I would buy just about anything so that they would never have to know what it feels like to be an outsider. I thought you could just buy popularity. As if somehow a pair of Guess jeans would have made me blonde, busty and so much to be fun around. In my adolescent mind it all made sense, and I skirted on the outside of the in crowd till I hit my twenties. Even then I had it confused and I had the credit card debt to prove it.
My whole life I just wanted to fit in and when I had kids I thought that with enough attention to detail (Like making them look like a Gap ad) I finally could be part of the masses. I never thought that they wouldn’t want to play that game.
Then kids came.
When my son was around two or 3 years old he began wearing an old worn out Spiderman costume everywhere we went. My husband was always slightly embarrassed, but this was nothing compared to dragging 2 screaming kids off a playground so I was fine with it. The fight to leave the house without it wasn’t worth the effort. He never wore the mask only the jumpsuit that had holes and a huge run as if he just split his pantyhose. I believe that stains were involved too. He was always friendly and full of life, that is until someone called him Spiderman. My husband would get very upset and scold him. “If you don’t want people calling you Spiderman why are you wearing this costume?” In his little voice he would cry an angry cry, “Because can’t they see my face? I’m not Spiderman!”
We finally convinced him that he needed to be polite or not wear the costume. He seemed confused, but went along with it because he really wanted to wear that outfit. He would smile and say hi then he would turn his head and I could see that the attention made him upset. I tried talking to him again and for a 3 year old he nailed it on the head. “Mom, I just want them to see me and call me by my name. It shouldn’t matter what clothes I’m wearing.” I was flooded by emotions. Of course guilt came first, what kind of lesson were we teaching him when we told him he needed to be polite or basically stop being himself to please someone else. Secondly, I wondered what marvelous soul landed in this tiny body that has been teaching me lessons since the moment he was conceived. Lastly, a wave of peace came over me that told me this kid was going to be alright no matter what life should throw at him. At 3 he had figured out what it takes most a lifetime to learn.
I proudly walked my “Spiderman” around town passed the kids that looked like they fell out of a Gap ad and past the snickering parents that thought I didn’t have my shit together. I even giggled a little inside at times as if I had a secret that I wasn’t sharing with anyone.
Somehow something better happened, something that I could have never imagined. He learned to be happy in his own skin. In turn I learned to be happy in my own skin, to laugh at myself, to be silly, and walk away from the jeers and stares without one ounce of regret.
The world still needs it’s superheroes, no matter what form they might take.
Find out more about Milena here: http://www.illuminousflux.com/?page_id=76
Last Updated On January 21, 2015
Spiderman
I remember thinking it would be so easy. I swore that when I had children of my own that I would buy just about anything so that they would never have to know what it feels like to be an outsider. I thought you could just buy popularity. As if somehow a pair of Guess jeans would have made me blonde, busty and so much to be fun around. In my adolescent mind it all made sense, and I skirted on the outside of the in crowd till I hit my twenties. Even then I had it confused and I had the credit card debt to prove it.
My whole life I just wanted to fit in and when I had kids I thought that with enough attention to detail (Like making them look like a Gap ad) I finally could be part of the masses. I never thought that they wouldn’t want to play that game.
Then kids came.
When my son was around two or 3 years old he began wearing an old worn out Spiderman costume everywhere we went. My husband was always slightly embarrassed, but this was nothing compared to dragging 2 screaming kids off a playground so I was fine with it. The fight to leave the house without it wasn’t worth the effort. He never wore the mask only the jumpsuit that had holes and a huge run as if he just split his pantyhose. I believe that stains were involved too. He was always friendly and full of life, that is until someone called him Spiderman. My husband would get very upset and scold him. “If you don’t want people calling you Spiderman why are you wearing this costume?” In his little voice he would cry an angry cry, “Because can’t they see my face? I’m not Spiderman!”
We finally convinced him that he needed to be polite or not wear the costume. He seemed confused, but went along with it because he really wanted to wear that outfit. He would smile and say hi then he would turn his head and I could see that the attention made him upset. I tried talking to him again and for a 3 year old he nailed it on the head. “Mom, I just want them to see me and call me by my name. It shouldn’t matter what clothes I’m wearing.” I was flooded by emotions. Of course guilt came first, what kind of lesson were we teaching him when we told him he needed to be polite or basically stop being himself to please someone else. Secondly, I wondered what marvelous soul landed in this tiny body that has been teaching me lessons since the moment he was conceived. Lastly, a wave of peace came over me that told me this kid was going to be alright no matter what life should throw at him. At 3 he had figured out what it takes most a lifetime to learn.
I proudly walked my “Spiderman” around town passed the kids that looked like they fell out of a Gap ad and past the snickering parents that thought I didn’t have my shit together. I even giggled a little inside at times as if I had a secret that I wasn’t sharing with anyone.
Somehow something better happened, something that I could have never imagined. He learned to be happy in his own skin. In turn I learned to be happy in my own skin, to laugh at myself, to be silly, and walk away from the jeers and stares without one ounce of regret.
The world still needs it’s superheroes, no matter what form they might take.
Find out more about Milena here: http://www.illuminousflux.com/?page_id=76