My sweet boy, who was plagued by anxiety and then faced it and stomped on it has been so strong and courageous this school year! When he brought home his report card earlier this month, he ripped open the envelope, not to examine his marks, but to proudly show me his attendance record.
Zero lates, zero absences.
He is so so very proud of himself, and I am proud of him too! I remember all too well begging and pleading with him to go into the school, to go into his class. I remember sitting in the corner of his classroom knowing that the second I got up to leave at our pre-agreed upon time, he would come running over with tears, pulling on my arm so I would stay. I remember trying to be firm with him, and to keep my patience. I remember fighting tears because I knew all too well how he felt and the pain of knowing that I was making it temporarily worse by walking away.
What an amazing boy I have. He is so strong, so determined.
I asked him how he did it, and he shrugged and said he just did it. I know that he still feels anxiety before heading to school every single morning. I can see it. But he takes a deep breath and says, "Bye mom!" and runs out the door and across the field to his friends. He tells those feelings to piss off every morning, and I think they do. And I'm glad.