Creating a Monster?

Last night was a rough night. My son and his father were working on an assignment that small boy brought home, that apparently he has been working on for weeks. The assignment was comparing and contrasting two books that he had read in class. He was really struggling with remembering details from the first book and his father was growing increasingly frustrated and angry. I could see them both getting flustered, and at one point his father asked if he had read the book. Small boy said yes. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I knew instantly that he wasn't being honest.

My sweet, sensitive, gentle boy was lying to his father.

I stepped in and asked if he had read the book. Again, he said yes. I told him to take a deep breath. He did. I then asked if he had read all the words in the book, or if he had skipped some of it while rushing through. He burst into tears, confessed he didn't read all of it and was too embarrassed and scared of his father being mad at him that he said nothing. After calming him down, we asked him how he was going to fix this problem, since we didn't own the book (and it was nearly 8:00pm). His father made the suggestion of going up to the library to see if the book was there, and if he could read it. The next morning was a late start, so if he could get the book read, he may have time to work on the report before it was due. So that is what we did, and we got it done.

I've been walking around with a lump in my throat since last night. The cycle has started in my son, and I can't let that happen or continue. We talked about being honest, even when you're scared, and he told me it was his father he was worried about. As he was sitting right there for the conversation, it wasn't an appropriate time for me to say "Me too, buddy." Instead we talked about facing our fears and being honest with not only those that we're afraid of disappointing, but also being honest with ourselves.

I'm thankful that my kids are honest with me. I'm so glad that they are comfortable enough to open up to me, even if it takes a little prodding, but... Fuck. I can't help but feel that he is learning this behavior from me. From my fear of opening up and really expressing myself freely - of being honest with everyone about who I am, what I want, where I want my life and future to go. And it's not just from his father... I'm holding so much back from everyone around me, and it comes from a place of fear. Fear of making people angry. Fear of people walking away. Fear of being a disappointment.

So I told my son we would work on honoring our inner truths together. That we would both work on expressing ourselves without fear. He said that sounded like a good idea.