Attack Dogs and an Arsenal of Good

Last night I asked my five year old daughter a question.  I asked her what she would do if one of her friends was mean to her repeatedly.

"I would ask them to please stop."

That was a great answer.  Logical.  Wise.  I pressed on...

"What if that doesn't work?"

"I would tell you, or my teacher."  Smartie, this one.  Looks like she actually pays attention to the anti-bullying message.  Good.  I pressed further...

"And what if THAT doesn't work?"  At this point she's looking at me like I'M the bully.

"Attack dogs."  God, I love five year logic.

This line of questioning occurred not because I thought she was being bullied.  It was because I was being bullied.  I have found that the pure logic of children can often be very honest and enlightening.  I had no idea how right she really was.

I have been my own biggest bully throughout my entire life.  Well, maybe not my entire life, but at least from adolescence on.  Having fully absorbed the message that I was lazy, worthless and stupid throughout childhood, my adolescent self tightly held onto that mantra.  It became a self-actualizing prophesy, and I was allowing it.

Every failed relationship, job, hobby, friendship, pursuit was my fault.  I was lazy.  I didn't deserve it.  I suck.

I need attack dogs.

Well-trained, highly optimistic, biggest champion of me dogs.  Just as any dog is completely loyal to its person, I need attack dogs that live in my mind, tearing apart every self-defeating thought that dares entry.

When I tell myself I am not allowed to have a dream - attack!  I can do whatever I set my mind to.

When I fear that I am destroying my child because of my own insecurities - attack!  I am a good mom and my child never, ever doubts my love for her, even when she doesn't understand me.

When I lose hope - attack!  I have the ability to create my own happiness, no matter what life throws at me.

When I think I'm not good enough - attack!  I am good enough.  In fact, I am great and getting better with every try.  Failure is just another opportunity to try again with more information.

These things seem simple enough.  In practice though...attack!  When all else fails, leave it to a five year old to give me the best advice I could have ever received.

Climb higher...

Hold on tight...

Throw your hands up and just let go!