Before I start this post, I’m going to give some background. Girl Guides are the Canadian equivalent of Girl Scouts of the USA. Or, more accurately, Girlguiding UK. It’s a girl’s organization that emphasizes leadership, the outdoors and co-operation. And also? They sell cookies.

I first joined Girl Guides as a 6-year-old Brownie in 1982. My mother decided to sign me up – probably because she thought it would be fun. And it was. I made friends and learned songs and wore a cool brown uniform. I earned badges and went to camp where I cried the whole time. I made survival kits and Christmas ornaments that I’m pretty sure my mom still has.

Me as a new Brownie in 1982

I was a natural fit for Girl Guides. I like structure and rules and ritual. I can be socially anxious, so it’s awesome to have an organization to break the ice for me. I also love achievement and gold stars and nice red check-marks beside my name. The badges, insignia and program work of Guiding gave me all of that in spades.

I attended Brownies, then Guides, then Pathfinders, then Rangers. I signed up for the full meal deal, starting in grade 1 and finishing in grade 12 (in 1988 Guiding added Sparks for 5-year-olds, but that was after my time). I camped in the snow (miserable), in the rain (slightly less miserable) and in the sun (hardly miserable at all). I travelled internationally and helped out in other units and planned events and led campfires. Guiding was something that played a fairly significant role in my youth.

Making my Brownie promise on enrollment night

Once I graduated from high school and moved away to university my involvement waned. But when I finally finished engineering school I called the Girl Guide membership line and volunteered as a leader. I became a Brownie leader, and also a part-time Ranger leader, and immersed myself back in the world of Girl Guides. This time I was the one who took the girls to camp and taught the songs and awarded the badges. It was fun. The girls were awesome and I loved seeing them every week.

I was a Girl Guide leader for 5 years, continuing throughout my pregnancy with Hannah. In fact, I was supposed to take my Brownies swimming on the night that she was born, 6 weeks early. It was to be my last hurrah before I stepped down for a while. I got to make some frantic calls to other leaders from the hospital to make sure that all the parents would know not to come. Fun times.

Earning my All-Round Cord as a Girl Guide in 1988

With a newborn my involvement waned again, but I continued to pay my member fees. I knew that when Hannah was 5 and ready for Sparks I’d be back in it. So this summer, once again, I called the membership line and offered to volunteer. I bought uniforms and a program book and badge scarf. I got a call from a Sparks leader and I met with her and we made plans for our group.

And then the whole thing fell apart. There were a few reasons, but what it came down to was this: I have way too much on my plate. And really, so does Hannah. She’s starting kindergarten and soccer 2 days a week. That feels like more than enough for right now. Add in my work and other volunteer commitments, my book project, Jon’s work and an active 2-year-old and our family is way, way too busy. Even without me volunteering as a leader, another activity for Hannah would be too much right now.

Buying roses on a Guiding trip to Mexico in 1991

But I felt a lot of conflict over my decision. I’ve spent almost 30 years as a Girl Guide. I knew I couldn’t do it, but I also couldn’t pull the trigger. It finally came to a head when I melted down at a meeting with other Girl Guide leaders. It was so, so intensely embarrassing, becoming yell-y and agitated because of all the pressure I was putting on myself. As I walked out of the meeting, I knew I had to bite the bullet. But even as I knew it, I wrestled with it.

I had been planning to share Guiding with my daughter long before I was even married. How could my daughter not attend Girl Guides? How could I pull my kid out of this organization that I spent so much time in myself? What would the mosaic of girl-hood look like without uniforms and cookie sales and enrollment nights? And how could my inner joiner and my inner giver make peace with backing out?

Atop the Pyramid of the Sun in Mexico (Aside: how did that girl have body image issues?)

Once I finally worked up my courage and resigned, I discovered that Hannah was more than happy to pass up Sparks as long as she could keep her uniform and program book. And the other leaders completely understood where I was coming from. My stuff is my stuff, and (surprise surprise!) not everyone else shares it. A huge weight was lifted.

Thankfully, behaving badly in public is not the only legacy of my brief re-entry into Guiding. I learned that I do not have to overextend myself in the name of providing an experience to my daughter. In fact, it’s better for her if I don’t – a happy mother is a whole lot more fun to live with than a frazzled one. Any kid can tell you that. Now I can tell you that, too. I feel like I broke through the barrier of needing to ‘do’ and ‘please’, and that’s a powerful thing.

Maybe I’ll come back to Girl Guides at some point. Maybe I won’t. I’m cool either way – and that’s the part that matters.