KINDERGARTEN RELATIONSHIP LESSONS

Now I Know I Learned Everything About Relationships In Kindergarten

We need to say and do the things so we can grow

AI-generated (unfortunately couldn’t find one that wasn’t for the topic — grrr) Photo by TyliJura on Pixabay

We learn how to be in relationships in childhood.

Do you remember being five years old, sitting criss-cross applesauce at circle time? Your kindergarten classmates sat in rapt attention as Mrs. Elizabeth Maples led you in the alphabet song. She’s called Mrs. Maples to all the children, but you’re the only one who slips and calls her Elizabeth on occasion.

I digress, a habit I’ve had since kindergarten. Almost like her AI-generated photo above, fictional Mrs. Maples was a kind, older lady with wiry gray hair and wore the standard uniform of every kindergarten teacher in the 1970s, a powder-blue frock dress with yellow and white daisies, with sensible white orthotics on her feet. You admire everything about her.

She’s in her fifties, but she seems much older. You trust her to teach you what she knows, which is a lot. She teaches you cooperative play, compassion, and confidence, and to be honest and kind to yourselves and others.

When you feel sad, you can tell her, and Mrs. Maples will comfort you. She’ll offer you a listening ear or a quiet space with a brown corduroy bean bag and a book with the same name as the fabric, about a bear who’s lost his button.

One day, Matthew, the skinny redheaded boy with the green flannel shirt, steals your favorite sparkly rainbow pencil with the pink heart eraser topper. You’re mad, and you burst into tears. Mrs. Maples comes over and asks what happened.

You glare at him, he looks down at his feet, and she says, “Remember to use your words.” With tears streaming down your face, you wail, “He stole my pencil! I’m really mad!” She tells Matthew to return the pencil.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “I really liked it.” She reminds him that if he asks, maybe you’ll let him look at it sometime.

Mrs. Maples was your hero.

You learned you can get your needs met by using your words, and your needs matter enough to speak up.

I don’t remember the real name of my “old lady” kindergarten teacher, but my elementary school teacher from grades 2–6, Mr. Doug Campbell, was my best friend’s dad and a super cool person to learn from. I incidentally called him Doug when we first met.

Although I always got along great with my teachers, my relationship with fellow kinders and older classmates was a little off. I felt like an extraterrestrial among the Earthborn. But I’ve always been curious, so I studied them and learned how to be a friend. I learned how a good friend is supposed to treat you, too.

Maybe that’s why I love foreign languages so much. I like learning about people and how they communicate and move about the planet, and what makes them feel things. I thought studying people would help me relate to them better. I had so much more to learn, about myself and them.

We learn how to be in relationships from our caregivers.

When I was growing up, I absorbed poor examples of relating to people, particularly in intimate relationships. The learning began with my biological parents, namely my birth mother’s obsession with my dad, who divorced her when I was eight. She never let go of the possibility that one day, they would be together again. My dad tolerated inappropriate behavior without speaking up for a long time, until he couldn’t hold back any longer.

I learned to normalize chasing unrealistic dreams of intimacy with people unwilling or unable to provide it. I accepted unacceptable behavior because that’s what my dad did.

I also learned that I didn’t have to do any other work, just believe in a god who had sealed our fate. We were meant to be together, and all I had to do was convince them. That meant I had to bend myself into a pretzel-shaped version of myself, a self who was ready and prepared to morph into whatever they wanted.

From kindergarten on, I developed countless unrequited crushes on boys and later men and a few women, who never talked to me, or they saw my body and decided that’s what they wanted.

I always wanted to be their girlfriend, and I was almost always their plaything. I didn’t tell them that I wanted something deeper. I learned that my consent or lack thereof didn’t matter, and I stopped trusting myself to know what I wanted. I took what they offered, which wasn’t what I wanted, and yet, I didn’t consider it a bad way to begin any relationship.

Left unchecked, we bring our past with us into our present relationships.

Why is it that our significant other can be the hardest person to talk to? If they’re so significant, why can’t we trust them with our whole hearts? But we hold back, don’t we? Especially when it’s about the relationship, we stop saying the thing we know should be said. We stop doing the things that bring us closer, and then one day, we don’t know each other anymore.

Maybe it’s because that person wasn’t meant to be your significant other. Or they were, but both of you stopped telling the truth because you were afraid to risk disappointment or disagreement. You stopped listening to what they needed or sharing what you wanted. Maybe you came into it without the right tools.

Your insecurities, your fears, stripped you of the rush you felt the first time you met, the first time you realized you loved them, and the moment you knew they’d love you even when you weren’t at your best. You both start to forget your words.

It’s been nearly 49 years since I attended kindergarten, and I have kids of my own who had kindergarten teachers. I don’t remember much about my class, only Robert, my first crush. But I’m certain my middle-aged teacher, who looked ancient to me, told us more than once to use our words.

I’m that wise older lady now, and I know how to communicate. I can ask for what I want and tell someone what I need. But some days, I still feel like I’m still in kindergarten, wishing I had an instruction manual for how to behave in relationships. Turns out, I did have guidance along the way, but it took longer than expected for it to synthesize.

We can relearn anything about ourselves and each other, anytime.

After a refresher course I didn’t know I was enrolled in, I began to respond differently than I had before.

I was today years old when I found out I had been doing relationships all wrong. Until this past year, I thought I was showing up with my authentic self. My partner Jim has challenged me to unmask and be completely and utterly present, for him and for life.

I did something in front of him for the first time, and I feel like I’ve turned a corner. I’m responding authentically in our relationship, trusting he’ll accept and love me for however I show up.

I was going to tell you the thing I did, but it’s private and not important to anyone but us. That’s also new for me. It’s okay to not share everything with everyone.

We get to have conversations I never thought we’d have, like what it’ll be like to have another lover. We’re polyamorous while presenting as monogamous, since neither of us has other partners right now. But we’re open to inviting other loves into our lives. Being in a healthy, ethically sound, nonmonogamous relationship involves a high level of honesty and transparency. I want to step into that and stay there.

I initiated a spontaneous check-in on Friday night. We discussed hypothetical feelings we might have for others, needs we might meet, feelings we’d have, and agreements we will continue to have. He’s had another partner, and I haven’t, so I appreciated hearing his thoughts and feelings about when I’ll see other people one day.

I brought up my desire to move in with him a few months ago, then recently told him how I feel about marriage. Those are some hot topics I never broached with most of my previous partners.

Talking about our future makes sense, though. If I want a future together, I should be able to tell him that. I will no longer shy away from these kinds of conversations. Although I still get a little nervous sometimes, it gets easier each time I speak up.

I never used to feel comfortable saying any of that, let alone asking directly about a man’s feelings. I also haven’t opened myself to a person willing to open up to me as I have with him.

It’s the sudden bravery to expose myself that struck me. For the first time since who knows when (maybe ever), I’m liberated to do and say things I’ve only fantasized about. It took 54 years, but here I am.

I’ve been having a lot of firsts lately, especially in my intimate relationship with Jim. Before I opened up to what has now become an entirely new entity called Us, I held back most of myself. I didn’t know I did that until I started to bring myself into our relationship.

I have a lot of words in my head, and I share many of them with a lot of people, but when it comes to my personal life, I put on an air of false confidence that tends to prevent others from getting close to me. I’m just as insecure as you are, maybe even more so in some areas. I know I’m not the only one who feels this way. Saying that makes it possible to let go of what’s been making me feel insecure. Using our words really does work.

I’ve always considered myself an honest person, but I’ve lied by omission in the past. What I’ve wanted all along is to be close to someone, and for them to get close to me. My fear of rejection kept my words stuck on my tongue for years.

Hiding how I feel has really put a kink in deepening intimacy with another human. And wow, now that I’m letting him see and hear me, I feel the beauty of it. I’ve been missing out all these years, but now I get to make up for that lost time.

We learn how to be in relationships in adulthood.

Emotional intimacy takes courage that we’re not all ready for. In fact, a lot of us play elaborate games to avoid it. But if we say or do the thing that scares us, we get valuable feedback. We typically stop being scared because we right-size the situation. When we share our hopes, dreams, and fears with someone we know we can trust, we grow closer.

What’s the worst that could happen if you say or do the thing that scares you the most? What if you were totally and completely the beautiful, unadulterated version of yourself with another person? Don’t hold back and see what happens. You might surprise yourself. You’ll be delighted at how much you are loved for being exactly who you are.

The only way we get to deepen intimacy is by showing each other who we really are. I did and said the things, and now I want to keep doing and saying the things. I found the keys and unlocked the doors that needed opening. Now, I’m free to build an honest, nurturing relationship with someone with whom I share an enduring love.

Mrs. Maples knew what was up. She had the answers to our relationship problems. But it’s only when the student is ready that the teacher appears. I finally showed up to class and learned how to use my words.

As I continue to grow with Jim beside me, I see how much I’ve learned. Doing it all wrong led me here, remembering that all I needed to know about relationships, I learned in kindergarten. I had the tools for a healthy relationship all along.

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