Reconciliation

Remember this post?

It's an older one, but it still rings true. I am still smarting too much to actually read through it, but I'll tell you that I remember one quite clearly. That advocating for a disabled son makes a woman a bitch.

In the eyes of most, it does. But here's the thing. Being a bitch isn't a bad thing. That was the point of the last post. That we should be proud of the fact that the things which cause other people to label us bitches aren't bad things at all.

Speaking my mind, that's mine. Being honest in the kindest way possible. Finding a way to praise even in the middle of needing to get a whole shit load of crap off my chest. Trying to teach a hard-headed woman a lesson without losing my job.

I had a meeting with one of my client's parents today, including the woman that I praised in the post above. When her son was put in my group by my prior boss, it was his little way of "punishing" me because I just couldn't handle the workload of a different client and asked for a change. His way of saying, "If you think you've got it bad now, just wait until you have to deal with this one and his mother."

Funnily enough, that young man didn't become a punishment to me. With each little push and prod, I got from him and learned from him more than I could write in a volume of books. He taught me to raise my empathy level, to not feel sorry for myself, to learn how to adapt and push myself until I figured out ways to make things work even when they looked insurmountable.

His mother is a piece of work. Everyone in the system knows it. But in the beginning, I was bound and determined to be the first coach to really please her, not just satisfy her minimum (long) list of requirements (all that were outside of what my job description entailed). And for the first couple of years, I managed to.

But in the last year, he became difficult, the ball started rolling, and for all the progress I made, it was like I'd gained a little brother. And we all know how sibling relationships can be. I can't get into it, but there were problems that needed to be addressed with his mother.

I'd been stressing out so bad about his annual meeting for so long, sleeplessly worrying about how I could address the many issues that I had with his situation and how to explain that I wasn't picking on her, but trying to do the best possible thing for him. My client is my priority, pleasing the parent is secondary. (Although nice when achieved.)

I finally managed to speak up to her today when she started to get snippy. I explained that she came off as a demanding, intimidating fortress who threw up brick walls at all suggestions that were given to her, happy only when she got her way. I spoke my mind as clearly, precisely and distinctly as I could.

I even typed out 4 pages of notes to have handy when I attended the meeting, so that I wouldn't forget what I needed to mention.

But even after the anger was laid out on the table, even after I was explaining things to her as she requested (she started to refuse to look at me after I said that I "quite frankly (was) a little scared" of her, she turned her head away and refused to look at me for a period of time.

She told me she felt insulted and attacked by what I'd said. I explained that while it was true that I felt all these things about her, that I also knew how good of a mother she was in following through where most parents of disabled children gave up. I explained my mother's difficulty with my sister's Asperger's and getting people to help her. I explained that I'd worked long enough in the system to know how clients can do 180s in program. That I'd seen it with my sister when I would be an aide in her special ed 6th grade class.

Then later when she bitched that she wanted to know hour by hour what her child was doing (having a weekly schedule sent home, again not a job requirement but a luxury), I mumbled that I didn't know what my child was doing every hour of the day. She then asked if I bothered to attend conferences and whatnot. I felt like I needed to defend myself and said I did, but that her second trimester report card was improved in every area, so the teacher didn't feel the need to sit down with me again since Midget wasn't having any problems.

(In fact, Midget brings home "citizenship certificates" at least twice a week, things that entitle her to free kids' meal at Carl's Jr.)

(In fact, in fact... Midget was chosen for the "Breakfast of Champions" that happens only once a month for the only the top 3 academic performers in each grade levels. Set to start at 8:30am. Without the ManPerson to send with a camera, I had to apologize that I would miss being there because I would still be picking up clients.)

I left my office stewing, going to my mom's house to pick up mail and - quite frankly - get a hug from my mommy. But she was at the salon and only my baby sister was there to cuddle up to. I told her what happened and she looked at me in that 21 year old way, like, "Excuse me, grown up 33 year old sister, why are you unleashing on my ignorant ass? You know I know nothing!"

I then called my boss on his cell phone, told him straight out that I wouldn't be coming in tomorrow. That I would be attending Breakfast of Champions for my daughter. And that as of Monday, my client... as much as I love him, would no longer be my client. My boss informed me that that was letting his mother win, since she was asking for me to be replaced since I wasn't giving her what she wanted.

"Fine. Let her have what she wants. Because there is no way that she is going to get better than me. And what she gets is the losing end of the stick."

I am a bitch.

I am proud to be a bitch.

There is nothing wrong with being a bitch.

There is a major difference between being a bitch and being a bad person. People have started to get that confused. Some of the best women I have met in my life are bitches. They speak their minds, they get balls rolling, they don't apologize for being themselves and they don't back down when someone corners them.

But if in one breath you criticize my single parental skills without realizing that I miss out on my daughter's achievements in order to give your son the best possible care available is the day that you no longer deserve to be called a bitch.

You're just a pathetic person telling me to "suck it up and stop crying, we're supposed to be professionals here." All because I hurt your pride. Because at the bottom of your black little heart, the truth fucking hurt. You're not a bitch, you're just a bad person.

I feel sorry for your son. I will miss him and our afternoons together like a part of my heart has been ripped out. But you, lady, you can sit and spin.

To all the women out there who are bitches, don't ever apologize for it. Today I gathered my spiritual balls and did what I didn't think I had it in me to do. Which made me a bitch in her eyes.

*pat*pat*on*the*back*back*