Categories
Life

Held

Tonight I miss my childhood.

I miss the way my Nan dipped onto to her knees and told me how precious I was to her. With her entire body, especially her eyes.

I miss the way my Mum held me when I cried. I miss the feeling of our two aches melting into one, and somehow just knowing that was a beautiful, beautiful thing.

I’ve never missed the safe pieces of childhood before—at least not consciously, and I’d imagine it’s because most adults become adults and assume that the word adult means: ‘safe enough’ and ‘responsible enough’.

Well, I’m here to tell you…no.

Actually no.

I believe that adult means: whoever and whatever you are, when you are it.

And what I am right now, is aching for the child I once was, and the beautiful world of love that enveloped her during her younger years.

I ache to be emotionally held. Because that’s how it all began for me.

Of course I miss it.

I’ve learned to meditate and open my heart, and thank-goodness for that because it fills me with all the lovely things, including the beautiful feeling of being held in the way I so often feel I need to be.

Still, I miss the feeling of being emotionally held by another, without judgement.

Without judgement.

I just do, I miss it.

And so I miss my childhood.

I also know it’s okay that I miss my childhood.

That part, I think, might be the beautiful silver lining of this grey story.

woman and little girl in black long sleeve shirt and black pants
Photo by Gustavo Fring on Pexels.com

By brookecutler2

Liver of life, lover of everything. 💕

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