Gemotions

Michael felt a familiar knot forming in his stomach the moment he saw Mr. Henderson’s face in the classroom doorway. He’d recognized the thin, tight smile and the precisely parted grey hair immediately. He’d dreaded this. He wanted his son, David, to thrive, to be independent, but a wave of helplessness washed over him.

“He seems a bit… shy,” Michael said, his voice hesitant. Mr. Henderson’s eyebrows arched slightly. He had always been so perceptive, so…judging.

During the parent-teacher conference, Michael found himself apologizing repeatedly, as if David’s personality was somehow a reflection on him. He felt the weight of his own childhood insecurities pressing down, making it hard to breathe. The relief that flooded him when the conference ended was almost embarrassing.