Dear Mom and Dad - Social Media

Dear Mom and Dad,

I'm writing this letter because I don't know how else to say it. I have things I want to tell you, secrets I keep hidden, but I'm scared. I'm scared of your anger, the way your voices boom and your faces turn red when things aren't how you want them to be. I'm scared that instead of helping me, I'll get into trouble.

I see you whisper secrets with your friends, stories about other people's lives. It makes me wonder, if you can share secrets so easily, will my secrets truly be safe with you?

Don't get me wrong, I do want to share. There are even times when I'm ready to take that risk, that you'll treat my secrets differently.

So I sit there, desiring that you take that first step. I'm ready to spill my guts. It needs to come out. I'm just hoping that you'd initiate the discussion, that you'd reach out to me asking me what's wrong.

And my wish comes true, sort of. You initiate, but you do it all wrong.

You ask, "What's wrong?", you inquire about my well-being, but you do it in front of everyone. I see my siblings staring at me, their eyes wide and it feels like a huge spotlight is burning into me. Suddenly I can't share. It's safer to just say "nothing" and disappear into my room, even if it means the worry lingers in your eyes while the secrets keep turning my stomach into knots.

I know you love me, and I love you both more than words can say. But sometimes, love isn't enough. Sometimes, I need more than just a question. I need a safe space, a hug that says "I'm here, no matter what," a promise and the confidence that my secrets won't somehow escape and start becoming weapons of attack against me.

So please, if you want the truth, don't ask me in front of everyone. Pull me aside, whisper instead of shout. Let your eyes be soft, not filled with storm clouds. Show me that you're not just waiting for my answer, but that you're ready to listen, really listen, without judgment.

I want to tell you about my lack of friends, but without feeling like it is my fault.

I want to tell you about the bullying, but without hearing how the bully is a hurt person and how hurt people hurt people.

I want to tell you about my struggles in class, but without being blamed for not studying enough.

I want to tell you about issues I'm having with my Rebbe/teacher, without automatically hearing how one should never say certain things about a Rebbe/teacher.

Show me that you can meet me where I am. 

Show me that you can understand my sad, my anger, my disappointment and my confusion and respond with just love and support.

Show me that you can hear my issues without immediately shifting into "solving mode".

Show me that I can speak freely about my feelings, concerns and fears without being judged for them.

Show me that you will be there for me, no matter how bad things sound and no matter how "wrong" I am.

Maybe then, just maybe, I'll find the courage to share the pains in my heart and the knots in my stomach. 

I love you both, and I want to trust you, but please, make it safe for me to do so.

Love,

Your Child

PS Please don't get angry from my letter. I know I said some harsh things, like how I don't feel safe sharing with you. I won't feel safe with you arguing with me about my letter. Safety is something that needs to be shown to me. Please show it to me. I'm looking forward to seeing it. I'm craving it more than that piece of cake after Yom Kippur. I want to work with you, I need your help, but I cannot make my move until you make the first move.