Dear Ms. Mabel,

My teenage daughter has the worst "friends." They aren’t bad kids, per se. They aren’t trying to get her to do bad things, but they just aren’t very kind towards her. I first got a bad feeling about these girls the very first time they hung out. I told my daughter this, and of course she freaked out, saying I was just trying to ruin her life. I let it go because she’s a really good kid, and I trust her. Then last week, I overheard two of her "friends" gossiping about her while they were at our house, and I can't stay silent any longer. How do I help my daughter see she needs better friends?

Sincerely,

Momma Bear

White House, TN

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Truth be told, I’d rather listen to my neighbor, Louise, talk about the size of her garden tomatoes than tell someone how to parent their child. Seriously, it’s a tomato. You’re supposed to eat it, not talk about it so daggum much. 

Anyways, I’m going to wager there isn’t a single grown woman reading this who doesn’t remember a time when her mother was the dumbest, most out of touch person on the planet. I’m here to tell you, I’ve both had a dumb mother and been a dumb mother, so I can say with complete confidence that this, too, shall pass. 

I’ll get to my opinion in a minute, but y’all already know I got to tell a story first. I can’t help it. The Bible was the first book I ever read all the way through. Jesus spoke in parables, Mabel tells semi-related stories that eventually get to the point. Close enough. 

Speaking of which…

I’m going to tell y’all something about myself I rarely mention to anyone.

Harold, my husband of 50 years, the father of my children and the love of my life, was not my first husband. That title belongs to a man who only held it for about eight months and his name was Larry. I started seeing Larry when we were in high school. He was so handsome and charming. I loved that all the girls were a little jealous I got to be Larry’s girl; they all wanted him for themselves.  

My Momma never liked Larry, though. 

She only said as much a few times but she hinted at it a lot. Larry was always trying to charm my parents, Daddy loved him but Momma was only ever just polite enough to him. My brothers thought he was a pretty swell dude, too. Two months after graduation, Larry and I eloped. Momma kept her opinions quiet, but I could tell she wasn’t happy about it.

A few months into our marriage, Larry got a job with my brother, Jerry, on a traveling construction crew. The pay was great, but that meant he had to be gone from home for long periods of time. I hated the separation, but Larry assured me it was the best thing for us and he’d call me every chance he got. 

As the months went by, more and more time would pass between the calls. When he was home, he was either distant or angry at me for existing. I was so confused and begged him to tell me what I had done wrong.

The more I questioned, the madder he got. I eventually just stopped asking. The voice inside my head started whispering to me that my Momma might have been right about him all along. 

Then one day, Jerry called me out of the blue..

I was feeling really lonely and was happy to hear from my brother so I started chattering immediately. 

“Mabel, honey, I’m going to need you to sit down. I have to talk to you about something,” Jerry interrupted. 

“What’s wrong? Is Larry okay? Is he hurt?” I stammered. 

“Larry is fine. Well ... he will be soon enough,” Jerry stammered. ”Nothing he won’t recover from.” 

“Listen Mabel, what I’m about to tell you is going to hurt you a lot and I’m sorry,” Jerry started softly, then proceeded to tell me about the horrible hurtful things Larry had been doing while he was away. My brother had caught him in the act with another woman and once confronted, Larry confessed to many other similar transgressions. 

Though I never actually questioned it, I’m betting Larry’s confession had more to do with whatever the “nothing he won’t recover from” was vs. the GoodForNothing just wanting to clear his conscience. 

I was devastated. 

I was distraught and so afraid. 

I was angry and had never felt so alone. 

My brother had no idea how to comfort me, so we bid our goodbyes and hung up. I sat there thinking what I was supposed to do next.

I don’t know if it's a good thing or a bad thing but it was different in those days. We just didn’t divorce like the younger folks do now. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of him for the rest of my life, but I felt as if I had no choice. 

I don’t know how much time passed as I sat there in my own head, but all of a sudden my Momma was there beside me. I hadn’t heard her come into the house, but she was there and I needed her. 

Jerry had called and explained everything to her, too. 

She gathered my face into her hands and kissed my forehead silently. Then, she pulled me in and held me while I cried all the tears I had to give. She didn’t say a word. She just held onto me, gently rocking as if I was an infant and petting my hair like you would a child.

After I’d cried my fill, I sat up and she finally spoke. 

“Come on now,” she said quietly with a smile, patting my leg. ”Let's get all your things together and go home.” 

“Momma, surely you don’t think I should leave him,” I questioned, completely shocked she would condone a divorce. 

“Listen here, girl,” she said with a force in her voice I hadn’t heard much. ”If you can’t be the tablecloth, I’m not going to let you settle for being the dish rag.”

With that, she turned and went into the bedroom to start packing my clothes. I never questioned her further because she was right. I was a tablecloth, a valuable thing meant to be treasured and looked on with pride. Not a dishrag. Cleaning rags, of any sort, only exist to make other things look better. 

Less than a year after leaving Larry, I met Harold. 

Once again, I was the envy of my friends. Not because of how handsome and charming Harold was, but for how he treated me. He treasured my presence, was quick to brag to anyone who would listen, and handled me and my heart with care. I was his tablecloth.

Here’s the thing, though, Momma Bear. I don’t know that I would have appreciated the love Harold gave me had I met him first. Sure, my life would have taken much of the same course, but would I have deeply known how much he loved me were it not for also knowing what it felt like to be unloved? 

I can’t imagine how hard it was for my Momma to sit quietly while I wasted myself on Larry. I learned a lot from reflecting on that, though. She knew if she put her foot down, a crack in the bond between her and I would rupture. That crack would have continued to grow and separate us to a distance so great, she would have been too far away to help me pick up the pieces when it fell apart. Instead, she subtly made her disapproval known while taking every opportunity to remind me of my value.

That’s where you're at right now. 

This isn’t going to be the last time you gotta keep your mouth shut while she makes a mistake, so get comfortable. Build that baby girl up every chance you get. Demonstrate the attributes of true friendship to her and around her. Give her examples of loyalty, grace, hospitality, and dependability. Be a little sneaky with it, that’s okay. Just don’t make comments directly about her friends unless you absolutely have to. If you take a step back, you’ll know when the time is right.

Remember, this is all just part of growing up. Heartbreak has to be part of the human experience or else we can’t assign emotional value to that which is good. 

How can we recognize true loyalty if we don’t experience betrayal? How can we know the meaning of any type of love; friendship, romance, or even God’s love if we never feel alone or abandoned or hated?

She’ll figure it out on her own and you can help her work through it then. 

It’s gonna be okay, Momma, just you wait. 

Y’all keep sending your questions in, and I’ll keep answering them. These folks here at Stay Positive News make it real easy for you to ask without giving your identity away and stuff. Just click here and tell me what’s been on your mind.