Although I played as much as any child before age 7, our move and my subsequent anxiety and depression erased the childish part of my still young childhood.
In some ways, I was born an adult, with much expected of me: to take Daddy's place in Mommy's life; to sense what she needed and respond; to give her the love, understanding and companionship she so desperately needed. But I was still loved for being a kid. Both my parents were teachers, and I thrived on learning. Despite the fighting and my role as substitute husband to my mother, I have 7 wonderful years of childish ways to look back on.
Unfortunately, 7 is still a child, and I lost much when I lost my ability to play.
Part of my re-parenting process is allowing the child-like parts of me to emerge from the closet they've been stuffed away in, and to welcome them with loving acceptance.
Now that I have Dr. Goodheart's permission, I begin to notice my desire for what many would consider childish things. I win pretty hair bows, and rather than packing them up as a gift for my niece, I want to keep them. Another day I win a necklace, really meant for a child, but ask for my own name on it. And when I see something adorable like this cat puzzle, I want to own it.
I convey my excitement to Mary about my new car--about how often I'll be able to see her and Jonathon now that I'll finally have my own transportation. And I watch myself typing about how we'll take Jonathon to the water park and the Children's Museum, and I laugh because I know that I want to go there, too!
Look out world--I no longer need permission to be the kid I missed out on being!
In some ways, I was born an adult, with much expected of me: to take Daddy's place in Mommy's life; to sense what she needed and respond; to give her the love, understanding and companionship she so desperately needed. But I was still loved for being a kid. Both my parents were teachers, and I thrived on learning. Despite the fighting and my role as substitute husband to my mother, I have 7 wonderful years of childish ways to look back on.
Unfortunately, 7 is still a child, and I lost much when I lost my ability to play.
Part of my re-parenting process is allowing the child-like parts of me to emerge from the closet they've been stuffed away in, and to welcome them with loving acceptance.
Now that I have Dr. Goodheart's permission, I begin to notice my desire for what many would consider childish things. I win pretty hair bows, and rather than packing them up as a gift for my niece, I want to keep them. Another day I win a necklace, really meant for a child, but ask for my own name on it. And when I see something adorable like this cat puzzle, I want to own it.
I convey my excitement to Mary about my new car--about how often I'll be able to see her and Jonathon now that I'll finally have my own transportation. And I watch myself typing about how we'll take Jonathon to the water park and the Children's Museum, and I laugh because I know that I want to go there, too!
Look out world--I no longer need permission to be the kid I missed out on being!
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