9 is a really hard year.... Part 2
When I was nine, my mom walked into my room and I was crying on my bed. It was after school and it was the day I realized no one liked me. At that point, it was the worst day of my life. My mom made me tea, sat with me while I cried and explained in a succinct way that sums up how practical my mom is, "Paish, I'm sorry. 9 is a really hard year." Somehow after a little bit of care, being listened to, her telling me the other kids were wrong and after this life-changing advice, I felt better. I went to school. I still had no friends. I was an oddly blunt 9 year old with no tact who had a really soft sensitive heart, but managed to hurt people's feelings all the time. (I am now a 26 year old who has improved in some of those areas, and at least has a lot more self awareness, but still struggles with those things...). But, my mom had said it, it had to be right! "9" was just a really hard year!! It was that simple. I w...