It's Ok To Feel Safe - To Feel Heard

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This old gal…

Grew up in house without a shower…hair was washed…in the kitchen sink…pull up a chair…little knees kneel on the seat…lean into the white ceramic bowl…bottle of shampoo on the counter to the right…Breck Crème rinse diluted…in what now old gal me recognizes…as a hobnail milk glass coffee cup…

Grown up hands…midst shampoo…four year old me…eyes squeezed tight…soapy water in the face…whined…one lone owwwwww…as the sting of the suds…hit the eye…in one swift move…the chair flew…little me…flew with it…

Curled on the couch…ice over the goose egg…where head hit the stove…that grandma of mine…hovering near…the shampooer…wailing behind the bathroom door…thoughts of a four year old…not on the injustice of the throw…but instead…at the guilt…of the little me…who caused it all…shouldn’t have whined…it didn’t hurt that bad…you need to be tough…keep quiet…

The guilt…the shame…of that day…a haunt…a specter…impacting the me…little me…would become…be brave…be strong…be tough…be quiet…don’t whine…complain…give others the power…to instill guilt…in you…for just being…you…

But things…have a way…of working themselves out…those daughters of mine…freeing their mama…saying we care…when you hurt…feel sad…go ahead…and whine…all you want…that husband of mine…acknowledging every backache…headache…chipped fingernail…with an…oh honey…it will be ok…

And it is…ok…more than ok…to feel safe…to feel heard…to feel those restraints of guilt…becoming loose…slack…letting go…
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And that husband of mine…agrees…