Remember who you are
Remember who you are.
Before you were a parent, partner or spouse.
Before you held a job, a position.
Before you defined yourself through roles, status or money.
Before you expressed yourself through clothes, art, ‘things’.
Before you were hurried, before you worried….
Before you saw yourself through both kind and jagged mirrors that others held up.
Before it was decided you were ugly, beautiful, fat, skinny, clever, plain, dull, ‘not bad’….
Before you framed yourself through insults and compliments, summaries and judgement, ticks and crosses, gold stars and detentions.
Before you ‘got it wrong’, were ‘clumsy’, talked too loudly, were ‘full of yourself’, ‘bossy’, ‘stupid’…..
You were never too anything - you were always enough.
Before you concerned yourself with bills, bucket lists and fear of missing out.
Before you constructed an ego to impress - or disappoint.
Before you made your web.
Remember when your skin was new and glowed fresh and smooth for kisses? Your arms swabbing air for cuddles. Your mouth open for sweet connection.
Remember when your eyes - big and bowling - ate paper plated worlds with wonder; recreating merry reds and galloping purples with paint that smelled of warm sugar paper cupboards. Dollops of gloop and gloss - gulping and squidging, just for you.
When your hand made dancing animal shadows on your bedroom wall. Black shapes were your friends before you noticed monsters.
When your feet explored puddles because they wanted splashes, to both be surrounded and free…. To experience deep, yet command the sloosh and splatter that makes circles and displaces stones.
When you prodded jelly for quiver, opened umbrellas to see the magic roof appear and click into place….
When you touched your friend’s hair without permission just because it felt right to reach out, press its fuzz and shine….and she didn’t mind, she smiled.
When you ran your fingers over burgundy crocodile knee scabs that sat as everyday armour, in awe at your body’s power to heal. Or maybe you poked it and marvelled at the rich ruby drops and streams of your own blood.
Remember when you ran because it was fun? Enjoyed the thrill of your feet and thumping chest of ‘out of breath’. Remember the post-spin dizziness of roundabouts. How you’d turn yourself around for more and more and more….
Remember eating peaches not caring if juice would river your chin and neck, making you sticky?
You wore an outfit because it felt nice or had a rainbow on it. You could pick out anything from the dressing up box - corduroy, velvet, net, glitter, hats, masks…..and it was okay to try it on, to see….
Remember way, way back - before they cut your hair and trimmed your nails, decided if you were too hot or cold, needed this or that, uniformed you.
Before they decided if you made the grade,
Before they decided you were one of ‘them’….or not.
You are still that pure love.
Divine, bright, worthy……
Shrug the layers.
Meet your child - precious and adorable, with the gift of a new slate.
Look them in the eyes with all the love you ever - or never - had.
Remind them it has been too long since you last met, but they will have your very best from now on, because they - you - are deserving of it…..and it will be alright.
X
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It’s the middle of the night. I read a DM from a friend who had a rough day and was drinking. My tears - then words - flowed as I thought of that person with their talent, intelligence, beauty, compassionate heart - dealing - as we all are - best they can with the bullshit of the world.
Then I thought about the grumpy bitch I myself had been all day. How living authentically means we can’t help but pass on a little of what we feel to others. Had I relayed bad feeling to my child, my mother, strangers?
It had been funny earlier on in the day. We’d been on the train and my son caught and mimicked a face I made and it looked like a sour, angry old trout.
“Why are you doing that with your face?”
He’d said. How cool to have someone observe stuff in you, then throw it back as mirror. Instantly I laughed, seeing myself through cartoon eyes. Maybe we don’t always have someone to do that for us, but I guess it’s useful to try and see it in ourselves.
There’s a lot made of ‘being present’ but maybe being both present and distant is something to aspire to. Watcher and participant. Both adult and child.
The photos.
1977/8? Prestatyn.
My first holiday. Already big sister.
The other one must be circa 2015, my son at forest school.
The hoop in each seemed symbolic of the obstacle courses we all face.
Children navigate the same - yet different ‘hoops’, challenges……as parents we come full circle.