My child couldn\’t compete with his classmates, but my comfort actually made him collapse even more

Last week was the Sports Science and Technology Festival of Xiaopai School. She told me the night before that I must go to school to watch her competition. She participated in the 100-meter running competition in the second grade. Last year, she ran first in the group. Unfortunately, my dad and I were not there that day. The sun was shining brightly in the afternoon of the game, and my father and I arrived at the playground early. We were waiting at the end of the track and divided the work. One took videos and the other took photos. The two of us waited seriously, because it was too far away and we couldn\’t see who was starting. Suddenly, I heard someone calling Xiao Pai\’s name on both sides of the track, so I quickly raised my phone. Xiaopai started running, quite fast. I was excitedly pressing the shutter when she rushed over. Unexpectedly, she and the girl in first place collided with the line almost at the same time! Although she didn\’t get first place, her second place in the group was pretty good. She was about to praise her, but the little guy hugged her father tightly and shed tears. This situation caught her off guard, and her father quickly comforted her, \”It doesn\’t matter, second place is already great.\” I helped him, \”Mom has never been qualified to participate in sports meets, because I am always in the last place when running. You see, you are only second. In grade one, I only ran over 18 seconds, and my mother only ran this result when she was in the third grade of junior high school.” If it were normal times, she would definitely ask me, Mom, were you really so bad at sports when you were in school? Or maybe you always had events that you were good at, but today she was not interested in any of these and just cried alone. In order to bring her back from the depressed mood as soon as possible, I took out the Yakult and iced watermelon specially prepared for her. She, who usually played tricks on me to eat ice, just stared blankly ahead and shook her head. . I suddenly realized that at this moment, everything I said or did was redundant. At this moment, her loss, her grievance and sadness were all so real. And what I said would only make her feel, \”I shouldn\’t be sad about this, I should be happy.\” What she experienced was not empathy, but that the flow of emotions and feelings was blocked. I remember that in the PET course, the teacher once played a video explaining what empathy is. Imagine that you are a fox, very sad and sad, your emotions are like falling into the bottom of a well, trembling in the darkness. Do you hope that there is someone who can climb to the bottom of the well and tell you, \”I understand how you feel, I am with you, you are not alone.\” Or do you hope that there is someone who stands at the top of the well and shouts to you? , \”Oh my gosh, you look so pitiful. In fact, there is no need to be like this. Maybe someone will come to save you later.\” You must want to hear the first one, right? Yes, we all want someone who understands us, not someone who sympathizes with us. I should be happy that I came in second place, just a little bit behind the first one, but this is my feeling, not hers. Imagining how \”I\” would feel if I were her and experiencing what she went through is not empathy. Imagining that I was her and how \”she\” would feel when I encountered what she was going through, this is empathy. Thinking of this, I hugged her tightly, stroked her hair, and let her cry silently in my arms. Looking at the small photo in front of me, I remembered my own experience. At that time, did I ever feel disappointed because I was so poor at sports?Not really. Because my sports performance has not been good since elementary school, the 800-meter run has always been a nightmare for me. Yes, I knew I had poor physical fitness and poor balance, so I gladly accepted it. In the year of the high school entrance examination, it happened that the physical education scores had to be included in the total score. My mother was worried for me. I told myself that if I couldn\’t pass physical education, I would have to work hard on the academic scores, and finally got into my ideal high school. No matter how bad sports are, it doesn’t hurt me. However, I will always remember the school art festival in my second year of junior high school. The highlight of the festival is a dance program. A group of thin and beautiful girls are selected from the whole grade. The teachers who rehearse are also the artistic backbone of the school. Because I had no dance background before, I was not on the initial list. Later, there were not enough people, so the head teacher recommended me. I was a little flattered to be selected to participate in this show. As a girl, I am always full of fantasies and expectations about dancing on stage. I had never performed on a stage before, so I longed to be able to spin and dance on the big stage of the school and show off my body. I felt so happy in my heart. I arrived early for every subsequent rehearsal and followed the teacher\’s instructions meticulously, repeating the movements over and over for fear of being delayed. But two weeks before the performance, during a rehearsal, the teacher suddenly asked me and another female classmate to watch from the side. I was a little surprised and didn\’t dare to ask anything, so I stood in the last row of the rehearsal room. After everyone finished rehearsing, on the way back to the classroom, I heard a few girls whispering that not everyone could play. The teacher deliberately selected more people to rehearse, so that if someone could not come temporarily, someone could be replaced. I slowly realized that I might be a spare tire. After several rehearsals, the girl and I watched quietly from behind. From beginning to end, I can’t remember when the teacher told me not to rehearse anymore. I only knew that I couldn’t participate in the performance. Today, many years later, I still remember that on the day of the performance, I was in the audience with my classmates from the whole grade, watching the classmates who had rehearsed with me, wearing beautiful makeup and holding beautiful fans and props, swaying on the stage. The dance…the wonderful performance received bursts of applause from the audience, mixed with cheers and whistles from time to time. The show won the first prize in the school art festival without any suspense, and the lead actress, a beautiful girl, became the goddess in the eyes of boys. Seeing the classmates next to me clapping their hands red, I felt like I had knocked over a five-flavor bottle. From the day I learned that I was replaced by the teacher, I have always fantasized that if any of my classmates were uncomfortable that day or had an unexpected situation, maybe I could still play, but no, never… The 13-year-old me felt wronged, I felt worried, disappointed, and even ashamed, but I never told my parents or classmates about these feelings. I was afraid that everyone would laugh at me, saying that I must have been replaced because I was not a good dancer, laugh at me for fussing over such a trivial matter, and accuse me of not having a sense of collective honor. Why should you be unhappy when all my classmates won first prize? If someone tells me, I understand how you feel. You have worked hard for so long but never had the chance to perform on stage. From being unexpectedly selected to rehearsing hard, you are full of expectations again and again, but your hopes are disappointed again and again. You mustSad, frustrated, hurt. But I never expressed it. It was too difficult for me to express these \”bad\” feelings at that time. After 20 years, I really want to hug myself who is huddled in the corner and can only silently lick my wounds, give her a shoulder to lean on and cry bitterly, and tell her that I understand how you feel. Everything will pass. If there was such a person beside me at that time who understood my feelings, maybe this incident, like many things that happened in middle school, would become a thing of the past, instead of lingering in my mind for so many years. go. …Dear child, I understand how you feel. It must be difficult to accept that you lost, and it was only a little bit short. If you want to cry, just cry. Mom is here to accompany you.