My heart aches for my little girl. A light that shined so bright. She used to leap and twirl through life. Carefree and confident.

But girls will be girls. And they do what they do. Which did what it did.

Now, that light is but a dull glow, barely noticeable through tantrums and tears. She shuffles and drags. Burdened and self-conscious.

The aftermath of a “mean girl” who has since set her sights elsewhere, she lays her head in my lap and sobs. Not understanding why no one wants to be her friend. Not understanding what she did. Not understanding what it is about her that is so horrible.

Not understanding that it isn’t her.

Once she is sleeping soundly, curled up under her covers, that’s when my tears mimic hers. Those which were held back from her are now free to flow hot and furious. Helpless to come up with the magic words. Helpless to make it go away. I can’t find a way to comfort my child who is in such emotional pain.

So I sit on her bed, in the stillness of the sleeping house. And I sob. Quietly. Stroking her hair as she dreams.

Wishing that my sadness and tears will take away my daughters. But knowing it won’t.

I cry a little harder because, through her tears, my daughter had tried to make me promise that I wouldn’t be sad for her.

But it is a Mothers place. My job. The pain my daughter feels, I feel. I am sad for her despite promises made with crossed fingers. I’m devastated.

I hope that we get her through this. By talking. Hugging. And supporting her.

Someday, this will just be a blip.

Someday her light will shine brightly. And she’ll leap and twirl through life. Carefree and confident. Once again.

Having children subjects and exposes your heart to the most extreme raw emotions the likes of which you never knew existed let alone could possibly feel.

I just want her to, once again, be happy.