Quote:
Originally Posted by stepka
You know, I got to thinking about this thread and came on here just to post to it as it's close to my heart. Here's what I was thinking: several on here have stated that they were very sensitive or even over-sensitive. I got told that many times as well, esp by my very well meaning mother, but fact is now that I think back on it, I was just sensitive enough. What is over-sensitive after all? The ability to feel pain when people are mean to you? It means you care. What is wrong with that? What could possibly be wrong with it?
The real fact of the matter is that we weren't good at pretending we were cool, and if you think about it, that's a good thing--we were nice genuine people. At school I try to take these kids under my wing w/o making things harder for them. Another thing that I've noticed is that in adult life, I have said the most, bland thing, something arbitrary, and someone will get offended, even though no offense was meant. So who is over sensitive? Someone who gets offended when no offense is meant, or someone who gets their feelings hurt when many people are mean to them at once? I'd wager to say that most kids would not have enjoyed the treatment we received, unless they had no feelings at all.
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I can't rep you again yet, stepka, but this was an excellent post. "Over-sensitive" is exactly what my mother used to call me. It's awful, because it's water long under the bridge. She has had therapy and has changed, and so have I, and she's an old lady now and we have a good relationship. But those things she said to me as a kid did permanent damage. It's how she was raised, too--there was this bizarre thought, seeming a part of the old Dutch-American culture, that saying something good or praising a kid would lead to them have a swelled head, so every time a kid thought something of themselves or was proud of what they did, you had to squash it. (There is even a phrase called "Dutch praise", which means criticism.) Without even thinking about it, she started to do the same to her grandchildren. My niece decided in eighth grade to start running. My mother told her she would never be able to run competitively. (My niece graduated from high school 18th in the state in track.) Same with my daughter. When she was 9, she started playing the trumpet. My mother told her that was ridiculous, that she'd never learn to play a trumpet. I spoke with both kids and made them see that this was a just a whacko quirk of grandma's and not to listen to her.