My daughter and I were at the park last week — running, jumping, chasing ducks, and playing tag — when the unthinkable happened: when she was mocked and teased for the first time.
The very first time.
Of course, my initial reaction was full of hurt and sadness, anger and rage. I wanted to swoop in and hug my daughter. I wanted to swoop in and protect my daughter, and I wanted to go full on mama bear on the little twerp who thought it was okay to make fun of girls because she (and her friends) were just that: young women. Young ladies. Creatures of a different sex. But my mind told me I shouldn't. My mind told me I need to sit back and calm down, and my mind forced me to check myself. It told me to stop and pause and leave my insecurities at the door. Because while I hate to see my daughter struggling — while I hate the fact that my sweet, innocent, kind-hearted, and free-spirited 4-year-old girl is already experiencing feelings of disappointment, rejection, judgement, and being let down — I know that, in order to grow, I must let her face these things. I know that I must let her feel these things, and I know that if I want her to become a well-rounded human being, I will have to let hurt. I will have to let her cry.
So I stepped back, stood by, and waited.
I tapped my foot, bit my nails, picked at the skin between my thumb and my forefinger, and waited.
And while my daughter didn't run away, nor did she cry, she was visibly frustrated. She was upset and, well, she was annoyed. But just as I was getting ready to speak up, moments before I stepped forward to yell her name, she decided to say something. She decided to tell this boy he was being "mean" and "not nice." And while my daughter, my 4-year-old little girl, handled herself well — while she handled herself with poise and confidence, self-respect and pride (well that, a low-blown swipe at his face) — I was still rattled because my gut told me I needed to do more.
Because inside, I yearned to do more.
Of course, I know this desire to "save her" and "help her" comes from my own painful childhood, i.e. I was a quiet girl. A shy girl, and a girl who ran from bullies, literally. I once ran through a row of bushes and hid behind a tree. And I always cowered. For years, I swallowed my voice and my words. But now? Now I want to scream. Now I want to yell. Now I want to advocate and intervene on her behalf. But I know that is not what she needs. I know that that is not what I need, and while I want to protect my daughter from the world — while I want to shield her from the hurt and sadness, from anger, fear, disappointment, and pain — I cannot because doing so would be a disservice.
I need to "help her help herself."
2 women walking on the road during daytimePhoto by Make no mistake: I know not everyone will agree with my parenting approach, i.e. I know it sounds distant and callous, cold and harsh but I'm not pushing her in front of traffic and seeing if she runs. I'm not dropping her off in the woods and seeing if she can find her way home, and I'm not "tossing her to the wolves" and then traipsing off in the other direction while she wallows in sorrow, in pain, or in despair. I am simply standing back and looking on. I am guiding her and advising her from the sidelines. Which, I assure you, is harder than you know.
But the "lessons" don't end there. You see, we talk about these incidents long after they end. We talk about these encounters long after they end, and we talk everything and anything from what she could have done or said to her feelings, her thoughts, and (yes) asking for help. I explain to her that, sometimes, she can and should ask for help and remind her that there is no shame in doing so. Even Mommy's and Daddy's need guidance from time to time.
So yes, while watching her flail and — at times — fall is sad, heartbreaking, and full of tears, I firmly believe it is one of those tough aspects of my job. Of my role as "mom." Because, as my parent, my job isn't to numb her feelings — or protect her from her feelings — it is to teach her how to acknowledge them, how to cope with them, and how to move through them.
I need to help her develop the resilience or self-confidence she needs to take with her through life.
- Bullies called him pork chop. He took that pain with him and then ... ›
- Dad takes daughter's bullying victim on a shopping spree - Upworthy ›
- Finland is really good at stopping bullying. Here's how they're doing ... ›
- People on social media debate where 'low-skill' labor exists - Upworthy ›
- 13 old-school parenting tips helicopter parents won't like - Upworthy ›
- Neuroscientist has the key to stop caring what other people think - Upworthy ›
Beaver in water. Photo by 
An actual beaver dam on the now-thriving Price River
Not just coworkers—family, friends, strangers, kids…
Imagine having to go so badly but being out of euros. 
Anything hobbit-esque can't be wrong. 
But what if you need pain meds AND mascara?!
Imagine how this would affect childcare.
Honestly…where's the lie?
A brown buddha statue sits near a green mountain. Photo by 
Urgent dash to the bathroom! 🚪🏃♂️
Ladybug unexpectedly found during colonoscopyPhoto credit: 
Close-up of bottom of ladybug found in colonPhoto credit: 
There's a reason why some people can perfectly copy accents, and others can't
Turns out, there's a neurodivergent link.
A woman in black long sleeve shirt stands in front of mirror.
Have you ever had that friend who goes on vacation for four days to London and comes back with a full-on Queen's English posh accent? "Oooh I left my brolly in the loo," they say, and you respond, "But you're from Colorado!" Well, there are reasons they (and many of us) do that, and usually it's on a pretty subconscious level.
It's called "accent mirroring," and it's actually quite common with people who are neurodivergent, particularly those with ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder). According Neurolaunch, the self-described "Free Mental Health Library," "Accent mirroring, also known as accent adaptation or phonetic convergence, is the tendency to unconsciously adopt the accent or speech patterns of those around us. This linguistic chameleon effect is not unique to individuals with ADHD, but it appears to be more pronounced and frequent in this population."
Essentially, when people have conversations, we're constantly "scanning" for information—not just the words we're absorbing, but the inflection and tone. "When we hear an accent, our brains automatically analyze and categorize the phonetic features, prosody, and intonation patterns," writes Neurolaunch. For most, this does result in copying the accent of the person with whom we're speaking. But those with ADHD might be more sensitive to auditory cues. This, "coupled with a reduced ability to filter out or inhibit the impulse to mimic…could potentially explain the increased tendency for accent mirroring."
While the article explains further research is needed, they distinctly state that, "Accent mirroring in individuals with ADHD often manifests as an unconscious mimicry of accents in social situations. This can range from subtle shifts in pronunciation to more noticeable changes in intonation and speech rhythm. For example, a person with ADHD might find themselves unconsciously adopting a Southern drawl when conversing with someone from Texas, even if they’ve never lived in the South themselves."
People are having their say online. On the subreddit r/ADHDWomen, a thread began: "Taking on accents is an ADHD thing?" The OP shares, "My whole life, I've picked up accents. I, myself, never noticed, but everyone around me would be like, 'Why are you talking like that??' It could be after I watched a show or movie with an accent or after I've traveled somewhere with a different accent than my 'normal.'
They continue, "Apparently, I pick it up fast, but it fades out slowly. Today... I'm scrolling Instagram, I watch a reel from a comedian couple (Darcy and Jeremy. IYKYK) about how Darcy (ADHD) picks up accents everywhere they go. It's called ADHD Mirroring??? And it's another way of masking."
(The OP is referring to Darcy Michaels and his husband Jeremy Baer, who are both touring comedians based in Canada.)
Hundreds of people on the Reddit thread alone seem to relate. One comments, "Omfg I've done this my whole life; I'll even pick up on the pauses/spaces when I'm talking to someone who is ESL—but English is my first language lol."
Sometimes, it can be a real issue for those around the chameleon. "I accidentally mimicked a waitress's weird laugh one time. As soon as she was out of earshot, my family started to reprimand me, but I was already like 'oh my god I don’t know why I did that, I feel so bad.'"
Many commenters on TikTok were shocked to find out this can be a sign of ADHD. One jokes, "Omg, yes, at a store the cashier was talking to me and she was French. She's like 'Oh are you French too? No, I'm not lol. I'm very east coast Canada."
And some people just embrace it and make it work for them. "I mirror their words or phrase! I’m 30. I realized I start calling everyone sweetie cause my manager does & I work at coffee shop."