From Bouff to Buff

“Do you see me as a safe haven or a scary place?” I asked my little love. My husband had just started to tell me about an incident on the playground when this love stopped him and begged him not to continue. 

“A safe haven” was the matter of fact reply. 

I slowly exhaled in relief.

“Then why don’t you want to tell me what happened?”

There was silence with a smile.

“Well, you don’t have to. But I want you to know that you can always tell me anything.” 

It was now my little love’s turn to be relieved. As it turns out, this love learnt a lesson in front of friends and, still embarrassed, was eager to move past the topic.

Not too long ago, this conversation could have gone very differently.

In the islands we use the word ‘bouff’ (pronounced like hoof but with a b). It means to scold someone. So, if you got ‘a good bouff’ it means that someone seriously told you off. Now, a good bouff is a good thing at times; many a lesson is learnt this way. However, it became clear to me a few years ago that my default reaction was to bouff. To criticize. To lecture.

I was quick to point out where my loves fell short.
I was exacting in my critiques.
I was always proving a point in the name of tough love.

I can’t say that I had an epiphany that changed my relationship with my kids. Rather, over time, I have become tired of the constant reprimanding and of the never-ending cycle of criticism. I had read somewhere that how we speak to our children eventually becomes their inner voice, and I was immediately winded. 

I don’t want my kids to think that they are always misbehaving – because they aren’t.

I don’t want them to believe that they get everything wrong – because they don’t.

I don’t want them to feel as though they aren’t loved unconditionally – because they are. And I need them to know that.

I don’t want them to run from me when they have problems for fear of criticism or judgment. I want them to run towards me with anything that could possibly be bothering them with the full knowledge that they would be received graciously and with an open heart and mind.

And so, without ever compromising discipline, (because, sometimes, a good bouff is in order), I have started weighing my words before responding in any given situation.

Instead of harping on where they have missed the mark, I try to highlight what they have done well.

Instead of laying out missed expectations, I seek to explain why we have certain rules.

I try to speak kindly and with love.
I seek to encourage communication.
I’m striving to enhance all that is good, positive or admirable.

Because, let’s be frank – they know when they have messed up. They don’t need me holding it over their heads.

Instead of a bouff- a scolding or a lecture about where they fall short- I’m trying to buff- to polish with praise. To apply love, acceptance and encouragement until my little ones shine through the mire like the stars I know that they are.

Not because they are better than anyone else, but because they are enough just as they are.

This moving from bouff to buff has taken the focus from tearing them down for what they have or haven’t done to building them up for who they are and reminding them of their strengths.

And our relationships have improved. 

Lately, this has me thinking about our relationships with ourselves. I, for one, have always been quick to entertain self-judgment. I know where I fall short, and I came to believe that being especially hard on myself was some form of responsible adulting.

But the more I would bouff myself, the more lacklustre my energy felt. The duller my self-esteem would be. The less brilliant I felt I could ever shine.

And I wonder – can we also move from bouff to buff?

Can we silence the critic within and instead see mistakes as opportunities to grow and to learn? 

Can we loosen our grip on perfection and instead see our best effort as enough?

Can we stop berating ourselves for how far we have yet to go and instead be grateful for how far we’ve come?

Can we let go of comparisons, disappointments and measurements (both figurative and literal) and take hold of grace – forgiving ourselves for our grievances and honouring our individual journey as worthwhile and important?

Perhaps if we polish and buff- if we apply love, acceptance and encouragement to where they are needed most – we may begin to shine through the mire. 

Just like the stars that we truly are.