Past and Present

As a kid with a learning disability and ADHD, life was pretty tough. I wished for placement in another school, I dreamed of such a different feeling as I fearfully avoided the peers that tortured me so during those terrible years. I was so grateful for my sister who protected me and kept me safe.
After years of therapy I can talk about my past as if I am talking about almost anything, to the amazement of the listeners who say "wow-I just cannot believe all that happened to you."
It did indeed. But as an adult I can understand how my experiences made me who I am. I can be grateful for having been made fun of mercilessly, made to feel like an outsider and always that there was "something wrong with me." I used to wonder just what that was. But now I know.
I am compassionate, sensitive, insightful, and non- judgmental. I am not one who follows the crowd, or who does what I am supposed to do just because everyone says so. I am not that far off from the person I was back then, I am just a little bit older.
It is fine to have these memories, to talk about my experiences and have this past. There is a part of me that has always wondered if I ever really got "over" what happened to me, enough to be able to let go of my past. But really, how do you know that you have let go?
Now I know as I look at my adorable son who talks to me about his school experiences that I have not. Aidan told me today that Mason, who he played with his entire kindergarten year, now calls him weird. Aidan was visibly sad when he told me on Friday that no one plays with him, and sad again when we talked about it this afternoon. Hearing him talk made me so sad, it like a punch in the stomach. I just wanted to drive far far away where I could protect him from school and that life and the pain in brings. But I cannot.
It brings back such painful memories.
Those who love me and know of my past say "But Betsy, it is not about you it is about Aidan!"
Of course I know this, but how can I separate it, when the one I want to protect the most, speaks words that are so familiar? Aidan, my beautiful son, who is so funny, smart, sensitive, and beautiful? The joy of my life? How can anyone call this amazing kid weird?
Is this the way my parents felt?
I want to make it better.
I will get help, I will do what I need to do.
But the sad part? I cannot be with Aidan all the time. I cannot shield him from the pain of real life, of growing up. I cannot prevent the realizations that he needs to come to at the ripe old age of 6 1/2.
My mother lovingly says "but honey, look at what an amazing person you turned out to be!"
Today when I told Aidan he was amazing, he asked "but why?" I answered honestly with "you are funny, smart, articulate, handsome, caring, and a hard worker. He was quiet while all those words sunk in...I hope they did.

I will try my best to protect my son. To tell him how smart and funny and lovely he is..until I am blue in the face, until he believes. And of course if he needs therapy to believe it, I will do this as well.
And the circle of life continues.