musings late at night

This should actually be called “drunk musings late at night”

I worked a lot these last weeks and my job is quite heavy on my mind. I work with teenage girls who are pregnant and don’t have a place to go. I work with teen moms and their kids, who don’t have the support of a family. Today was a particularly challenging day. But due to a confidentiality agreement in my job, I will not go into detail.

However, I am left with the following questions:

Will we ever know how much we inspired or helped a person if they don’t tell us?

Can we save a life and maybe change fate with something we say?

I worked at a daycare centre for a long time. I helped babies develop their speech, helped them in their motricity (turning, sitting, crawling, walking), and supported their development. And I know that they knew my name and loved me (they smiled when they save me and came in without tantrums), but I also know that they already forgot about me. I left the nursery on March 9th, 2021. Not officially, I always thought or hoped that I could go back after my shoulder surgery, but in the end, that day was my last day there.

And now with the young girls, I don’t know how vain or egomaniac it sounds, but I want to make a difference. What I really wish is for a girl to look back on her life in ten years and remember the educator who was kind and offered wisdom without judgement. Yes, that’s my goal. I don’t need them to tell me that they like me, but I want them to lead their lives and remember me with a fond smile. I want to inspire them.

The thing is, I am not allowed to tell my own story. It would probably help them quite a bit, but as a professional, I can not tell my clients about an abusive childhood, about neglect, about abandonment, rape, and about all the ways I pulled myself out of it all without any support. I can not tell them how much I suffer still and how important it is to face the past’s demons. No, I am a professional, I cannot do that. What I can do is try to understand them, to show them empathy and compassion, to remind them that if no one is there, we at the centre are there. It’s tough though. Very tough.

There are these young girls who have survived so much already, they have a lot of history on their backs and because of the babies in their bellies their future will be forever changed and challenged.

I hate my job. I love my job. But as always, I am overthinking.

Drunk musings at night when you should be asleep. But the day upset me. I did a good job, but yes… For the first time in 7 months (since I started there) I cannot let go because I don’t want to look the other way.

One more meeting tomorrow, and then I am off work until next Thursday. I am looking forward to that.

By the way, it’s my birthday next Tuesday. Mark your calendars. I am expecting music and cake and many niceties.

Good night

✨💜✨💜✨💜✨💜✨💜✨💜✨💜✨💜✨💜✨

8 thoughts on “musings late at night

  1. I’ve had a ‘the grass is always greener somewhere else’ attitude since childhood, which has caused me much disappointment throughout my life. I think of my country (America) as being so incredibly fucked up on so many levels, and in my naivete, I imagined that life in a small nation like Luxembourg would be close to idyllic. Sadly, the reality is that any place and every place the world over has its good and bad aspects, and people everywhere experience similar challenges, troubles and pain, regardless of culture, language or customs.

    You have a job that requires you to give others much so emotional strength and support, which I can imagine often leaves you drained and exhausted. It would be nice if you could somehow share some of your own experiences in order to show – and perhaps gain – empathy from these young expectant mother but I realize that’s not possible. Thanks for sharing with us.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It’s true that no place and no live is perfect.
      My day at work yesterday was at once a huge success and a big challenge. Right now, I am mostly tired from a couple of very intense weeks and I am looking forward to sleeping it off in the coming days.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. As much as I want (and sometimes do fall into) telling my story I find the most impact is when I listen and show a bit of understanding and acceptance. Being present. Anyway…I hear you.
    By the way, your an excellent speller when drunk. How do you do that?!

    Liked by 1 person

        1. I notice it is harder to spell right when sober.
          But here is the challenge: foreign languages get easier when drunk or tipsy. I cannot explain why, but it is what it is. I am not a native English speaker. Learnt it in school years ago.

          Liked by 1 person

          1. This is a universal truth!!!! My Chinese is exponentially better with each drink but my English turns to sh$t. At least that is my experience. Maybe it’s something to do with loss of inhibition that increases confidence? With a second language it builds confidence in a good way. In first language it makes us over confident and lazy? Not sure, but I definitely identify with this.

            Liked by 1 person

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