The other night this little one sat down beside me with a piece of paper and a pencil. She began writing, telling me she didn’t want me to watch.
I smiled to myself, thinking she was likely drawing a picture, wondering what the beautiful result of her marks would be.
But minutes later, when she inched the page over my way with a sad look in her eyes, my smile fell along with my heart.
Butterflies and mermaids weren’t fluttering and flipping on it like I had expected; instead, there were words:
“I’m worried I’m not ready for second grade.”
In an instant, there I was, a worried little kindergartner, petrified of riding the bus. I was there, sitting in 3rd grade, trying to make myself look small, worried the teacher would call on me. I was there, walking into 6th grade fitted with a brace to straighten my crooked back, worried that everyone would make fun of me. I was there, in regal 9th grade, scared Freshman-fashion, making myself sick in the morning because I had no friends to make high school feel safe. And then I was there, years later, worried about all the rest: the bills and the responsibilities and parenting and life and love and the future. I was there, worrying about everything that was completely out of my control: the unknown.
But sitting next to my daughter in this moment, I realized something. While I do a good job worrying my life away, I realize my time as a parent and role model needs to be spent doing more important things than that. That I’m here, tasked to be an example of braveness and strength and confidence.
For her, and for myself.
So instead of worrying about why she is worried, instead, I simply pull my daughter close and whisper words of encouragement. Later, I write the words I’ve spoken on her bathroom mirror, so that every time she looks at herself in it, she is reminded of her greatness.
Because while we don’t know what will happen in those scary unknown places, we do know that we can choose to believe that everything will work out just fine.
So for now, this little girl and her mama will believe the best:
That we’ve got this.
That our days will be happy.
That our tomorrows will be awesome.
That opportunities will lie in those scary places.
That love will always win out in the end.
And for now, we will believe we are superstars.
Because we are. 
💕
Corey is a writer, graphic designer, and mom to her amazing daughter, Zoey. Here at The Nostalgia Diaries, her goal is to simplify, enhance, and engage people’s lives by helping them focus on the most important things: remembering, appreciating, believing, and becoming. It’s all about celebrating the past to create better days today.
At The Nostalgia Diaries, our goal is to help you simplify, enhance, and engage your lives by focusing on the most important things: remembering, appreciating, believing, and becoming. It’s all about celebrating the past to create better days today.
P.S. Don’t forget to follow our colorful, creative spaces on , and . We’re fun and happy and whimsical and nostalgic over there, too. Pinky swear.
Yes! I love this, sometimes you worry so much you don’t even realize you’re doing it. I hope your little one has an amazing school year!
I am worrying right there with you!! The awesome thing is that we can choose to focus on the positive instead of the worry. We can choose to live in the moment and look for the happy things. And we can teach our little ones how to deal with uncertainty and to re-frame it into something positive. Thank you so much for sharing this!! 🙂
Ahhhh – that is a lovely affirmation and one that is easy to say and easy to make sense of. One of my boys use to be a worrier and I use to have to distract him with funny stories or get him to close his eyes and imagine all his favorite things. – We use to talk a lot about sport when he did this..hahaha
So many of these moments in a life. What a sweet moment.
Awe this took me back too. To the worries I had as a kid and the worries my son has. It’s hard not to fix everything as a parent but what good advice you have about showing your bravery for you and her. ❤️