Woke up early due to a bag leak; as I was trying to fall back asleep I started thinking about my childhood. I don’t know exactly how I got there. It may have to do with finally going to a meeting, or the book I am reading, or just generally questioning my own parenting skills, but I found myself trying to quantify my happiness as a child. Was I a happy child? Did I have a happy childhood? I had some happy moments, but I don’t think I ever felt that safe or listened to. As for my disposition…I don’t remember feeling full of joy. I was in my own little world most of the time, cautious and fearful of the world around me. Not sure of how I fit in and without much guidance, I tried to learn how to be by observing. I had friends, a great imagination, but I did not have much confidence and did not know how to ask for help. The other day at my son’s preschool, a boy I don’t remember ever meeting asked me to help him zip up his jacket on his way outside to play. I don’t think I would have ever done that. I would have probably waited until the teacher noticed that my jacket was unzipped if I couldn’t figure it out myself, or would have stayed inside.
I hope fear or lack of confidence won’t ever stop Ike from doing whatever he really wants to do. I learned too late that courage is not the absence of fear or even about “overcoming” the fear, but doing in spite of it. I want Ike to be able to ask for help when he needs it and to say no to what he doesn’t need. I want him to feel listened to and safe. I know he is a happy child, I don’t need to wonder about that, and I hope I never dampen his spirit. As long as I am in recovery, I won’t need to.
