It was awkward.  Maybe.  It could have just happened so fast that neither of us had a chance to react, which is most likely.  That’s what it was for me.  But that split second when our eyes met and I know she saw me, if she had reacted like she was happy to see me I would have said hi and smiled and told her how nice it was to see her.  But I faltered because in that split second, I was a stranger.

It is really okay, we don’t have to do all that anymore, we were roommates a lifetime ago and have become adults without being in one another’s lives.  But I would be lying if I said the past didn’t rush back just by glancing at her for that second as she passed, laughing and happy with her group of friends.

It’s possible that she went inside and didn’t say a word, just went about her girls’ night and seeing me didn’t phase her.  But I wondered if she went inside and declared that she just saw her old roommate, what a hassle it was living with me.  I wondered if she looks back on our time together and remembers that we were best friends, or that I didn’t scrub the kitchen floor like she did.

I have a belief that adults should not expect certain things from kids.  I often tell people who are seeking help with their children that kids are not hardwired knowing how to behave or react.  They will react by instinct until we take the time to teach them what we want them to know.  I value communication and calm rationality when I have interactions with other people, so I take the time to teach my kids the tools they need to communicate clearly.  I help them learn how to breathe and think so they can stay calm rather than react emotionally and act out.  They are calm and peaceful because Chris and I have made it a priority to teach the kids what we think is the most effective way to react.

William is three years old.  Sometimes he gets frustrated when things don’t go the way he expects.  He starts crying, sometimes yelling and every once in a while flails his little body in anger.  From the outside he may look like a naughty kid throwing a fit.  I can imagine people walking by slowly, eyeing us as I try to hug him and calm him down.  She can’t control him, they might think.  He must have behavioral problems, they might say to their companions.  But he is a smart, sweet three year old who has a slew of emotions that he hasn’t learned how to master yet.  If I were to TELL him to stop throwing a fit, how would he know what to do?  If I stood above him and directed him to calm down and stop crying, it would just exascerbate the situation because not only would he be upset, but he would feel frustrated and sad because he was disappointing me.

But when I kneel on his level and explain to him that I know he is upset and I am going to help him calm down, he knows I am there to help.  I talk him through exactly what he needs to do to calm his little body down so he can hear me.  Then we can talk about what is happening.  Yelling at him would only scare him.  Ignoring him would make him feel helpless and unimportant.  Reacting calmly and diffusing the situation with words not only teaches him the tools to use next time he is upset, but it shows him that this is how I react TO him, that I am not only asking him to do it, but I do it too.

If I put a canvas in front of you and told you to paint this, could you do it?  You have paintbrushes, a surface to paint on and all the colors you could need.  Do it. Now.

Would you feel frustrated?  Maybe feel the tears gathering behind your eyes?  Would you worry that I think you are stupid? I am standing there. looking at you, expecting you to paint these trees.  I can do it, WHY CAN’T YOU?

It wouldn’t be fair to expect you to be able to paint this just because I can.  You would need training and time to learn the proper techniques.  Why would you ever expect your child to do it with something as complicated as emotions?

What does this have to do with running into my roommate?  Well, I was not easy to live with.  I never did anything to intentionally harm anyone, I always thought of other people’s feelings.  I put my clothes away and liked our apartment to be picked up and tidy.  But I did not clean well, I did not buy laundry detergent.  I never got on my hands and knees and scrub the kitchen floor.  I wasn’t a jerk, I wasn’t thoughtless, I just wasn’t hardwired to do those things.  I had never done them before.  I was a kid that went from living at home where I didn’t take care of those things to living in a dorm where I didn’t have to do them.  So it drove her crazy that I didn’t know how to do, or when to do the things she had already been taught.  Rather than talk to me and teach me what she needed from me, frustrations mounted and our friendship unraveled with painful rumors being spread and feelings being hurt.  I was unaware.  I was naive.

Looking back as an adult and parent, I can give my teenage self the grace of understanding.  I can extend that same grace to her, knowing that the things she did were born of youth and immaturity as well.  We were not hardwired, we learned through one another how not to do things.  I wonder if she walked into that restaurant catching a glimpse of an adult woman that she used to know as a young girl.  I wonder if she is able to look back as a mother and see two kids who were playing at being capable of living on their own.

It doesn’t really matter either way.  Because the years have passed (and passed) and those girls who lived in that apartment don’t exist anymore.  But this girl knows that no one will do what you expect of them unless you make your needs very, very clear.  I have, and will continue to teach my children that unless you use your voice, no one will know what you want.  If someone wrongs you, speak up.  If someone overlooks you, make yourself heard.  Never expect someone to give you what you need unless you tell them exactly how you want that need fulfilled.

If we ever pass each other again, I will make sure to raise my hand in greeting and take a moment to say hello.  Because no matter what happened in the past, I know who I am now, I am confident and kind.