Every organized event where I find myself mingling with other parents simply because our kids are together makes me feel like a judgmental jerk. I have to admit, though, that I’m the one who insists on my kids participating in team sports or some activity to shake off the long, dreary winter. Yes, I can be a bit self-righteous when I talk about the importance of team sports.
Go ahead, roll your eyes at me. I totally get it.
Team sports provide kids with valuable skills, boost their confidence, and encourage them to enjoy the great outdoors—sometimes even in the rain! They also have the chance to make friends and have fun while doing so.
But underneath my confident facade lies an introvert who genuinely struggles with the social dynamics. It’s not the activities that bother me; it’s the awkward social experiment that unfolds when you put together a group of kids and expect their parents to socialize too. The silence is unbearable, quickly morphing into forced small talk about the weather, the latest snack schedule, or the dandelions in the field. If you listen closely, you can hear the mental stretching, everyone scrambling for something—anything—to fill the void and make the time pass.
Here’s the twist: I’m really good at pretending to be extroverted. I can easily greet you and ask how your day is going, even while I yearn to retreat into my own thoughts. I can also be nice to your child, even if I’m annoyed that you’ve left me to supervise her because she’s playing with mine. I’m that parent who brings snacks I didn’t have to provide, all because it’s not her fault you can’t be bothered to check your messages while scrolling through your phone. I can conjure up conversations from thin air, and despite having a chronic case of Resting Bitch Face, I somehow manage to appear approachable on the soccer field.
But the truth is, I prefer to sit apart from other parents, strategically placing my gear around me to create a pseudo barrier. Yes, I’m aware it comes off as snobbish. Sometimes, I feign interest in my phone to avoid engagement. Please, just let me be. Yet, other parents still come to talk, asking questions when all I want is to appreciate the flowers from one of my kids while I watch the other play soccer.
On any given evening, to my left is the parent who yells at their child as if they’re in the World Cup. I silently thank my lucky stars for my sunglasses while she tells her child to toughen up after getting hit in the face with a ball. On my right is a mom eager to share how she knows the coach and how her kid owns an iPad, all while confessing her son is terrible at soccer.
Inside, I’m screaming, “LEAVE ME ALONE!” While outside, I nod along, wearing that fake smile my husband has learned means, “Get me out of here.” I cheer for their kids, hoping my “Good try!” is louder than the other mom’s rants. I want to remind them that scores don’t even matter at this level, but I keep quiet to avoid repeating myself, especially to adults. I offer snacks to other children and smile through the teasing about my preparedness. I bite my tongue when they lament about a “bad parent” while simultaneously telling their kids to stop acting like a girl.
Week after week, it’s the same scenario. Sometimes, I manage to sneak away, often using my daughter’s bathroom requests as an excuse. I act like it’s a hassle to trek to the port-a-potties, but in reality, I just want a moment of freedom from the chatter. When my husband shows up, he’s a welcome buffer. I cling to him like a lifeline.
When the kids give each other high-fives at the end of the game, I gather our things, trying not to seem too eager to leave. I remind the kids to collect their gear and offer to help the coaches, who usually insist they’re fine. Just as I’m about to escape the field, someone calls out, “See you next week, Emily!”
Oh, great.
This article was originally published on Aug. 4, 2015.
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Summary:
Navigating the world of “soccer mom” life can be a challenge, especially for introverted parents. The experience is often filled with awkward interactions, forced small talk, and the pressure to fit in with other parents. While team sports provide children with essential skills and social opportunities, the social dynamics among parents can be overwhelming for those who prefer to sit on the sidelines. Finding ways to cope, like bringing snacks or using bathroom breaks as an escape, can help ease the discomfort of these interactions.