Not long after my first child entered the world, I learned from a friend that our child-free group was going out for dinner—without inviting either my partner or me. That stung. I understood that becoming a parent had altered my life; my time now revolved around my baby. Spontaneous outings became more of a hassle than a thrill. Socializing with friends required finding a babysitter or deciding which one of us would stay home.
My friends didn’t intend to upset me, but the change in our dynamic was painful. They were trying to avoid imposing unrealistic expectations on our friendship, while I simply wanted to remain included. They feared disappointment when I had to decline their invitations (thanks to parenthood), but the desire to be invited never faded.
These feelings stemmed from a shift in the way we connect with one another. They awakened memories of middle and high school, where I had a few close friends but often felt the sting of exclusion from cliques that made me feel unworthy. I’d hear about outings and events, and when I found myself alone at home while others enjoyed themselves, it was particularly disheartening.
My children sometimes come home from school sharing stories of friends who wouldn’t let them join in play. My instinct is to protect them fiercely. I suppress my immediate thoughts of Who did this? and instead ask for the details. I try to understand the situation from the perspective of my moody five-year-old twins and my sensitive seven-year-old. I also consider the possibility that my kids may not always be the innocent ones—after all, they have their moments too.
The incidents at school are often innocent enough, a common rite of passage for kids—and adults. If my child isn’t excluded today, there may come a time when they unintentionally leave someone out. Life isn’t always fair; not everyone will be friends with us, and sometimes choices are made that unintentionally hurt others.
When my eldest daughter returns home upset because her best friend chose not to play with her due to another girl’s influence, my heart aches for her. I validate her feelings of frustration and sadness, acknowledging that it’s okay to feel that way. While I don’t know why her friend made that choice, I remind her that perhaps the friend just wanted some time with someone else, and not to take it too personally.
“But Mom, I would have included her,” my daughter said, expressing her confusion. We often discuss the importance of being an upstander and helping others when they’re in need. In this situation, however, no one stepped in to support her when her friendship was openly denied. I felt a sense of failure in my parenting. Given my efforts to teach inclusion, respect, and kindness, her expectation for the same behavior from others made the hurt feel even more intense.
“Maybe they just wanted some time alone,” I suggested. “Sometimes it’s nice to have one-on-one time with a friend. They should have communicated that, but I bet they’ll play together tomorrow.” While I felt like I was channeling a children’s show character, my daughter seemed reassured. I knew her confidence had taken a hit. When kids face repeated exclusion or bullying, they can either withdraw or lash out. I praised her for seeking out someone else to play with, acknowledging that it would have been easy to react with anger. This opened the door for discussions about bullying and the importance of treating others with kindness even when we don’t receive the same in return.
Finding the right balance between encouraging our kids to be inclusive while allowing them to make choices—even selfish ones—can be challenging. I want them to trust their gut feelings but also to be mindful of others’ emotions. I hope they grow to be thoughtful and generous, without feeling obligated to sacrifice their own happiness for others.
I’ve come to terms (mostly) with not always being invited to gatherings or included in discussions. I’ve built confidence in my friendships, knowing that one exclusion doesn’t diminish my relationships. My time with one friend doesn’t lessen my love for another.
As I navigate these lessons with my children, I recognize that as humans, we will inevitably feel left out or forgotten at times. There will be logical reasons behind these feelings or times when emotions seem irrational. Being excluded is never pleasant, but we can learn to cope and move forward.
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Summary:
Feeling left out is a universal experience that affects both children and adults. The author reflects on their own experiences with exclusion and relates them to their children’s struggles at school. They emphasize the importance of teaching kids about kindness and inclusion, while also allowing them to make their own choices. Ultimately, it’s about finding balance and understanding that, while being excluded can hurt, it’s a part of life we can learn to navigate.
Keyphrase:
feeling excluded
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