Someone called me a Mama Bear last night. I think it was in a comment on my blog… in a dream.
I laughed at it. Laughing is something I do a lot. It covers many bases for me… mostly it covers up the fact that I am uncertain what reaction I am supposed to have, so to buy me some time to think… I laugh. Or smile. I have a myriad of smiles for a myriad of reasons and purposes. Sometimes my smiles are silent laughs.
I was puzzled by being called a Mama Bear. What did the person mean by it?
It came from someone I knew, but who? Did I really know them or just think I knew them but didn’t? There was something familiar about them, I had a vague feeling they were someone with whom I shared many laughs and smiles of a bantering sort. Still…
I worried due to being perplexed. Were they perhaps trying to insult me? Had I offended them with something I had said and they were sharing their pain with me, trying to make me feel what they were feeling?
Name calling often serves this purpose, yet Mama Bear did not seem offensive. Were they perhaps being subtle, so no one else reading the comment would realise they were being snide? People would think they were being amusing, they would look good in the eyes of others and only they would know that they were being nasty. A secret evil pleasure hidden behind an angelic false smile. A criticism disguised by the veneer of a compliment.
Yet surely for this to be truly enjoyable to the giver of roses with thorns, the receiver would need the know they were on the receiving end of a barbed rosy comment?
Surely there was an easier way of doing it which would have been less enigmatic. Perhaps they thought they were being clear… but not to me.
Communication is a tricky thing. If only we all learned how do do it the same way… but we don’t.
I searched my mind for the possible meanings of Mama Bear. Goldilocks and The Three Bears came to mind. As a child I loved this story… but why? Why did it appeal to me?
I didn’t relate to Goldilocks, she was a rather boldly rude child. I would never have dared to trespass in the way that she did. I would not have wandered off and got lost as she did either. I was a rather serious and responsible child.
And which one was Mama Bear? Was her porridge too cold? Too sweet? Was her chair or her bed too soft? I just don’t remember…
It occurred to me that maybe what this person meant by calling me a Mama Bear was that I was being too soft. Soft about what? What post was the comment referring to? What had I said which had incurred a reply? What… why…
Then I laughed at myself. I smiled. It was only a dream… at least I think it was a dream… perhaps it meant nothing at all, yet why did this fragment stand out so much, surely it had a message for my conscious mind from my subconscious?
Maybe it does… but… laugh… smile… move on, Mama Bear, sometimes that is all we can do when things happen and we just don’t know why.