This expression has always had a negative connotation to me, until recently.
I have been reflecting on my relationships with my children lately, since our quality time together will be forever altered. By the end of the summer my husband and I will have a true empty nest. Not the college-years-empty nest where the kids come home for long periods of time and are still dependent on us, but the kind of empty nest where they begin their independent lives with “their” people and, most likely, will never live under our roof again.
I think we all strive to raise our kids with what we feel we may not have gotten and in my case it’s sensitivity. As a kid I was often told by my well-meaning parents that I was, “too sensitive.” Feelings weren’t really processed much and I was raised with a “stiff-upper-lip-turn-the other-cheek” attitude. As a preteen and well into my twenties, I was one big confused raw emotion and I felt emotionally fragile most of the time. Through much soul searching, life experiences and self-acceptance, I have grown into my sensitivity and actually think it’s one of my best qualities.
While raising my children I’ve always acknowledged what and how they were feeling and how their interactions with others impacted those around them. We didn’t shy away from openly discussing how we all felt, no matter how difficult it may have been at times.
My children are sensitive, compassionate adults, and I get to “reap what I’ve sown.” I may not have gotten the sensitivity that I craved as a child but in fostering it in my children, I’m getting it twofold.