Updated: April 30, 2021
Originally Published: March 26, 2021
Image Credit: fizkes/Getty Images
Trigger Warning: Child Abuse
My daughter, Mia, is an energetic little girl, full of life but a bit uncoordinated, which often leads to her stumbling or falling. Usually, she brushes herself off and continues her playtime with boundless enthusiasm. However, there are times when her falls result in genuine pain, and she seeks comfort.
Today, she tumbled off the couch in a split second, and I couldn’t catch her in time. She bumped her head and immediately burst into tears, her little face twisted in distress. Though her vocabulary is still developing, it was clear she was expressing her fear. Instinctively, I scooped her up for a comforting hug.
I allowed her to cry and express her feelings, singing “You Are My Sunshine” as she gazed into my eyes, eventually smiling through her tears. We cuddled while watching some Teletubbies, and once she felt calm, she leaped off my lap to play with her toys again.
It was a precious moment, but in the midst of nurturing Mia, I was haunted by my own past. I recalled similar events from my childhood. Like Mia, I was often clumsy and prone to falls, and I would express my pain with cries or exclamations. Unfortunately, I did not receive the comfort I desperately needed.
“Get up!” “Don’t cry or I’ll give you something to cry about.” “You didn’t hurt yourself.”
These were the typical responses I received, with “weed” being the term used to describe me when I cried—a derogatory term implying weakness. I can’t remember ever being hugged or reassured when I was hurt. Instead, I was often met with disbelief or ridicule.
One vivid memory stands out: my sister fell off a swing, and my father rushed to her side, offering comfort without hesitation. I was five at the time and couldn’t understand why his love seemed reserved for her. In my confusion, I cried and asked him why he didn’t call her names like he did to me. His response was a sharp dismissal, leaving me feeling unloved and bewildered.
When I shared my feelings with my mother, she laughed it off, making me feel trivial for expressing my hurt. Her suggestion that my father simply tell me he loved me was met with my own confusion and a forced apology for my feelings.
Moments like these intruded upon my bonding time with Mia, overshadowing our happiness with painful memories. I also remembered a time I sprained my wrist at seven. My mother mocked my fear that it was broken and did nothing to help. When I re-injured it, I was met with laughter rather than compassion.
I confided in my husband about how these memories often intrude upon my joyful moments with Mia. His understanding and validation provided comfort, as he recognized the cruelty I faced and assured me he would never treat Mia that way.
As I watched Mia immerse herself in her books, seemingly unaffected by her earlier distress, I reflected on how these intrusive thoughts, while painful, signify my commitment to breaking the cycle of neglect. They surface during moments of genuine care, reminding me that I am providing Mia with the love and support I yearned for in my childhood.
These memories belong to the past; what truly matters is the love I can give to my daughter today. She deserves all the affection I have held onto for so long, and I am determined to create a nurturing environment for her. My mistakes as a parent are inevitable, but one thing is certain: Mia will never doubt my love for her. The trust in her big brown eyes reassures me that she knows I am always on her side. That bond is stronger than any lingering memories from my past.
For more insights on similar topics, check out this blog post and explore resources like Make A Mom for guidance on home insemination. Additionally, the Mayo Clinic provides excellent information about pregnancy and IVF options.
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Summary:
In reflecting on my nurturing relationship with my daughter, Mia, I confront painful memories from my own childhood. Despite the warmth I provide her, I often find my past intruding on our moments together. Through nurturing her with the love I missed out on, I am determined to break the cycle of neglect and ensure she feels secure and cherished. While I know I’ll make mistakes, the bond we share is built on trust and love, allowing her to thrive free from the shadows of my past.
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