presence over performance – Dear Miss Reckoning,

🔥 A Reckoning Non-Advice Letter 💌

✨ When adults say “kids bounce back,” this letter asks: How many bounces until the trampoline breaks and it’s a freefall? 🪂

✨ This one’s for anyone who’s watched a child struggle and then wondered: Is survival being mistaken for resilience? 💔🔁

✨ Resilience isn’t a magic trick. It’s a tricky landing, sometimes painful, often brave. This post chooses presence for the landing over performance. 🧘‍♀️

✨ “They seem fine” is not the whole story. Still water hides danger. This letter explores how to land gently. 🌊🫶

💌 Dear Miss Reckoning,

I’ve been thinking about how often adults say “kids bounce back.” It’s used after family problems, school changes, social drama… pretty much anything inconvenient. But sometimes I wonder if that phrase is more comforting for the adults than it is accurate for the kids.

What do you think?

— Just Asking

🪞 Dear Just Asking,

I’m glad you asked. Because I’ve been thinking about this, too.

I recently went through a hard time. I tried to protect my kids. But one way-too-adult comment from my eight-year-old had me double taking. And then completely baffled on how to respond to her. 🤯

I think building resilience in kids is important.
It’s a skill we can all learn every day.

But here’s the thing and where I landed on this:

🌀 We say “kids bounce back”…
But who’s watching the second bounce?
Or the third?
Or the moment the trampoline finally gives out? 🪂

💥 Because bouncing once might be strength.
🔁 Bouncing twice might be learned survival.
🕳️ Bouncing forever? That’s not resilience anymore. That’s a freefall.

I do believe adults love the idea that children just absorb disruption and magically reorganize around it.
School transfers? They’ll adjust.
Friend drama? Normal—they’ll figure it out.
Break-ups? They’re young—time heals.

Sometimes I haven’t always handled things like I wish I had.
I know life happens. Mistakes happen.
We can’t live in shame and regret as adults if we didn’t get it right in every moment.
That’s definitely not the answer.

But healing for kids isn’t automatic. 🩹
And resilience isn’t infinite. ♾️
We don’t get to assign emotional gymnastic routines 🤸
and assume every child sticks the landing.

We say, “They seem fine.”
But did we look beneath the surface?
Still water doesn’t mean safe water. 🌊🚨

Sometimes, beneath the mask of coping 🎭, kids are quietly scripting their understanding of life without us even realizing it, until one too-adult-comment:

“This is how things go.”
“This is how people treat each other.” 🫥
“This is what love feels like.” 💔

They’re absorbing and adapting—but not always the way we hope.

So what’s the alternative?
How do we move forward when life doesn’t stop happening?
Sometimes we can’t control the bad stuff that happens.
We as adults have to be resilient.

The answer isn’t bubble-wrapping kids. 🫧
It’s telling the truth.
Being present. 🫶
But not performative presence.

It’s sitting down with my kid and admitting:
I made a mistake. I’m human.
I’m going to keep trying to do better—for myself and for you.

Not just hoping they bounce
but being there when they land.
Even if the landing is messy.
Especially if it’s messy.
Especially if it’s uncomfortable for us.

Because kids can be resilient. 💪
But they shouldn’t have to be all the time. ⌛

Sometimes the bravest thing a parent can do
is stop bouncing themselves.
To choose stillness. 🧘
To choose presence.
To look their kid in the eyes and say:
“I know that was hard. I see you. I’m still here.”

That’s not a bounce.
That’s a reckoning.
And it’s the beginning of repair. 🌱

Asking the question is enough. Sitting with it is a start. Living more thoughtfully is the goal.

Scorched, signed, sent,
🔥 🖋️ 💌

-Miss Reckoning

As always, your unqualified, non-professional, non-advice friend

Note from Miss:
I’ve sought a lot of professional help, and I’ve found it beneficial in my own recovery. Please always seek what you need from professional avenues.

But know, you’re never alone here.