I could only think of two words. Just two.
The little girl inside me was awake now, and seeing things through her eyes infuriated me. My kids described how hard life on the playground was and it made me connect with my playground moments.
Carrying her and all these secrets for years.
Sometimes, when I looked at my kids and listened to them it took me straight to the little girl inside me. As they shared about their day on the playground, my mind transported me back to elementary school when we were all lined up at the windowsill tracing in the light.
He quietly moved his hand over my pants and I froze. My shaky hand was still tracing the image in the light but my entire body was frozen in fear.
I shared that simple statement with my counselor, and it became a very hot memory that she helped me process. She took me out the window of her office and into the window of my elementary classroom. She knew what to ask and where to take it and she brought me back safely to the soft cushions of her sofa.
My heart was broken for the little girl inside me, who I affectionately started calling LG.
LG thought his actions meant that he knew what kind of girl she was too. She didn’t want anyone to find out especially her teacher. She thought it was her fault. She never wanted her teacher to know how bad she was so she worked extra hard to be good. She even shared her lunchbox treats with her teacher to make her smile.
I stayed stuck there for a few days with that file open in my mind. There were pictures here and there, and floods of memories both good and bad.
A good memory popped up at Zumba when we were pretending to jump rope during one of the songs. I remembered being in PE class and jump roping to Double Dutch Bus. I loved that song, and I still do. It made me smile and tear up.
I’ve always loved the escape of loud music and movement.
I felt like I’d been jumping between two ropes over and over for a long time.
with a load of shame
and a heap of pain
scared to death
with a lot of noise
but loud music
and any movement
broke it away for a bit
allowed a calm
to carry me
This is post #22 in the Baby Steps series. To start at the beginning, click here.